The Four Horsemen
by XinnLajgin
Summary: A KaneOC Undertaker AU starting slightly before bad blood. Abeebah was just looking to get her and her family out of a bad situation. She had no idea that by entering the WWF she and her siblings would be entering into a world of manipulation.
1. The opprotunity

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in WWE/WWF and I have no rights to them. This is just a story to suit my own amusement and I'm not being paid for it.

* * *

**

**A/N: I've been trying to write for awhile now and starting anew always makes me feel better so don't expect regular updates. –Rei**

* * *

**Summery: Vince McMahon smiled smugly as he thought of his newest acquisitions each one more dangerous than the other in one way or another. They were all sure to put more fans in the arenas and put down any opposition that came their' way thus meaning more money in his pocket. And perhaps he would finally have a solution to his Stone cold/Undertaker/Kane problem. **

* * *

Abeebah Johns stood silently staring at the man who brought her and her siblings to Madison Square garden a few weeks ago. At the time the offer was made, the only thing Abeebah was thinking about was getting her family as fast and as far from Philadelphia as she possibly could. The rich white boy sitting before her now had just wandered into a bad situation. More accurately, he wandered into Abeebah's bad situation which included thick headed idiots who fashioned themselves to be drug dealers.

And, it just so happened the said wannabe drug dealers had set their' sights on Abeebah's home for their' base of operations. Abeebah opposed the idea, violently. And one Vincent McMahon who just happened to be driving by got caught in the crossfire. The 'drug dealers' had cornered Abeebah in the middle of a deserted 56th and Greenway. Everyone born in southwest Philly knew that particular street belonged to the more 'liberal' characters of Philadelphia, and knew better than to stay out late. Unfortunately for Abeebah feeding three other mouths required late nights and she got into fights frequently enough to have a reputation.

And it didn't help that her parents were rumored to be involved with cultist. It was this reputation they planned on using to instill fear for their' gang, and normally Abeebah wouldn't care as long as she was paid off, however she was all too familiar with complications. Complications like getting arrested, social services, and dead bodies left and right was something Abeebah had already had an abundance of in her short twenty years of life. She had every intention of avoiding getting into that lifestyle again. The wannabes were not in the least bit understanding and cornered her, five of them all decidedly bigger than Abeebah.

Vince could remember honking his horn and yelling for the delinquents to get out of the way, thinking it was just a bunch of punks congregating in the middle of the street. Annoyed one of the boys walked right up to Vince's open window and punched the multimillionaire in the face. Livid, Vince began to insult and threaten the youths. However this served as a much needed distraction for Abeebah, who kneed one of her captures' and head butted the other, then proceeded to methodically brutalize the remaining three who cornered her. Immediately, Vince was on his cell phone and calling the police as he watched Abeebah fight.

Vince noticed how skilled the seemingly average girl was. Every step was calculated to do the most damage with the least amount of effort. Every strike scored viciously on the most sensitive areas, meant to incapacitate permanently. He watched with a practiced eye as a girl that could be no more than 5'7 punch a guy twice her size in the throat and reverse said same elbow into the assailant that tried to attack her from behind. She rounded on the last one, and kicked the boy in the family jewels with crushing force.

However she didn't stop when they were down, if anything the girl became more viscous and stomped the downed males. Vince now took a moment to park his car, not in the least put off by the way caramel skinned beauty beat the living shit out of the punks. In fact he sat back and watched the show with morbid fascination as Abeebah kicked them while they were down. And Abeebah continued to do so until the cops arrived pulled her off of them. When asked why she didn't stop or run when she had a chance, Abeebah merely said, "Just because they were down doesn't mean they're out." One of the officers glared fiercely at the dark skinned young woman, "you admitting to manslaughter Ms. Johns?"

The she-brawler looked up and right into the man's eyes. It was the first time Mr. McMahon actually saw Abeebah's face. She wasn't beautiful in the classical sense. Her face still clung to its last ounce of baby fat, and she had an impressive scar from above her right eye all the way down to her chin. However it were it were Abeebah's eyes that caught Vince's attention. Almost luminescent hazel depths regarded the man questioning her with chilling apathy. "In order to do that they'd have to be dead officer, and believe me if I were aiming to kill them they wouldn't be alive."

The owner of the WWF was impressed, not only did the look on her face scream that she was capable of doing what she said but her body language echoed her facial expression ominously. However the cop either was too blind or too stupid because he continued to sneer at her, secure in the assumption he had Abeebah by the throat, "Attempted man slaughter and obstruction of justice." Everyone was surprised when Abeebah merely cocked her head with a mildly amused quirk of her full lips. "Petty at best and perhaps the dumbest charges I've ever heard at worse and coming from me, now that's saying something."

The man's partner grabbed his fellow officer's shoulder. "Come on Green back off already, it was self defense." Mr. McMahon wondered idly if steam could actually blow out of someone's ears. "You haven't been here long Mitchell so I'll let go," he turned his belligerent gaze on to Abeebah, "this time." Abeebah shrugged off his glare without comment and turned to leave. "Wait", Vince knew potential when he saw it and wasn't about to let it pass, "Ms. Johns was it? Vince McMahon, I have a business proposition for you if you'll give me a moment of your time?" Recognition flashed across those beautifully hard eyes, "alright but perhaps we should speak in my home."

* * *

The old man smiled charmingly and nodding his assent followed her to the smallest house on the block. Abeebah's house was slightly intimidating with only the light of the moon casting long and complicated patterned shadows across its green and gray surface. Nevertheless he followed her inside and was surprised by what he seen. The living room was alight with minimal candle light spread throughout the entire room and was tastefully decorated with a modest couch and a trunk that doubled as a coffee table. Abeebah moved further into the living room and shrugged off her coat without so much as a backward glance toward Vince revealing the corded muscles of her forearms.

Sitting down on the couch Abeebah finally looks at the businessman in the eye and silently points to the love seat across from her. Vince smiled charmingly at her and sat down. "Abeebah?" Vince raised an eyebrow at the sight of a young man entering the living room from the open kitchen area. He was tall, not incredibly so but just scraping the six foot mark. Pale golden skin glowed in the candle light over heavily set muscles. Green/brown eyes looked down at Vince appraisingly with such barely leashed intensity he was painfully reminded of one of his newer wrestlers. "He's cool, Mr. McMahon this is my brother Brandon, Brandon get Delia and Evan please."

Brandon looked surprised, but didn't question his sister as he went up the steps to do as his sister said. Abeebah turned her attention back to the businessman before her. She had a limited knowledge of the man whom sat before her; just what her youngest brother had said as he was the only one of them that watched wrestling. And Evan's descriptions of the man was not flattering, to put it politely the description started with f and ended in f. Abeebah quirked an amused half smile thinking about the vehement aversion Evan had toward the world wrestling federation's owner. "I don't mean to be intrusive but you seem to be very young-

"I'm twenty years old Mr. McMahon my parents died four years ago." The owner of the WWF noticed that her voice was not at all defensive, no anger, no sorrow, not even out right flatness, just commenting on fact. Not for the first time Vince was chilled. "So, what is this proposition you were talking about earlier, I seriously doubt you want me as an employee," Abeebah reclined further into the couch. Mimicking her posture Vince again put on a disarming smile, "actually I think you'd make an excellent addition to the WWF." "WHAT?!" They both looked up only to see Brandon had returned and he wasn't alone.

Accompanying the burley young man, was a tall willowy girl and an equally slender boy. The disbelieving yell came from the boy whose hazel eyes were so much like Abeebah's it was almost eerie. "Mr. McMahon may I introduce you to my other siblings Delia and Evan," Abeebah pointedly looked toward her youngest brother. Seeing the look Evan cast his eyes downward, knowing better than to argue with Abeebah when she gave him that look. Vince nodded in acknowledgement to the two new arrivals and studied both in turn.

Evan was obviously the youngest and the smallest of the four siblings. However, Vince could tell that the boy's stature couldn't hide his inner strength which was made prominent by the way he held himself. This one was proud and watched him hostility through lowered lashes. Delia, like Brandon, watched with wary curiosity, her dark eyes swung between her sister and him. Delia like her sister could be no more than 5'7 in height, but while Abeebah wasn't classically beautiful, her sister was. Delia's caramel skin was unmarred and unblemished in any way. Her figure was a perfect slender hour-glass, that was being displayed perfectly by the feminine nightgown she wore.

Delia held herself with the easy confidence of knowing she was beautiful, and knowing how to use that beauty to her own ends. Vince ran his eyes the length of Delia from head to toe and back, a new proposition quickly coming to mind. "Ms. Johns, the confrontation in which you were involved earlier brought something to my attention you have potential, and I would like to see that potential cultivated in the world wrestling federation," smoothly as Thai silk Vince laid out his offer before Abeebah.

They would start as soon as possible with training and getting her used to fighting in front of crowds, traveling, and doing publicity events. And steadily he watched as one by one each of the siblings became more interested until they started to interact with him and ask questions. However Abeebah remained silent throughout the entire conversation, and Vince began to worry that the one he came for in the first place had lost interest. "So do you have any question Ms. Johns?" He knew calling her on her silence was a gamble, but Vince recognized long before he entered Abeebah's house, that dealing with the woman would be a gamble.

Abeebah shrugged her shoulders, "my siblings are doing fine by themselves, and I didn't want to interrupt." There it was again, Abeebah's quiet humor, that seemed to have no end as if she knew something that no one else did, and wasn't about to share. Vince had to force himself to smile back as his annoyance raised. Suddenly, Abeebah's eyes narrowed, and her lips no longer held the slightly teasing half smirk. Her posture was still non-threatening; however the look on her face was enough to put him on edge.

"Now let's get down to the niddy gritty, I see how you look at my brother and sister and if they want to join than so be it," she glanced at Brandon and Delia, "that is they're decision to make." Again she turned her attention to McMahon, "As for me I'm honored by this opportunity and will gladly take you up on your offer so long as Evan is allowed to come with me." Vince held back the urge to smile smugly and made it a point to hold out his hand in a clear show of sealing the deal, "meet me at the Lincoln memorial stadium a week from now, we headed for New Jersey."

* * *

Slowly Abeebah sat forward and grasped the McMahon's hand in a firm grip. "See you then." Vince left soon after with a few more details of their' deal being worked out. Numbers were exchanged, along with general information and the millionaire was on his way. And as soon as he was gone Abeebah's siblings rounded on her, questions clear as day on their' faces. Abeebah merely gave them her customary amused half grin and waited to see who would crack first.

"Beebs, what the fuck?!" It figured Delia would break before Evan. Abeebah shrugged, "our 'little problem' became a big problem, we need to get the hell out of dodge," lazily she rolled her head to the side to look at Evan, "so, his deal good or what?" Evan grimaced, "from what I know the deal's solid but McMahon is full of shit." Abeebah let out a harsh bark of laughter, "nothing new then." Brandon sighed and grasped a lock of Abeebah's long hair and gave it an affectionate yank. "What happened to 'liking' the boredom of a normal life?"

"If boredom includes a bullet in the ass then I think its time to move on," she informed Brandon wryly. Her three younger siblings looked at each other over Abeebah's relaxed form. "Point," they conceded simultaneously. "Ok then, since were all in agreement go to bed," Abeebah hauled herself off the sofa, "we have a lot to do tomorrow." And a week later the Johns' siblings found themselves at the Lincoln memorial stadium with the few possessions they didn't want to give up, being introduced to Vince McMahon's technical staff as well as his wife Linda. Their' things were loaded into the bus they would be traveling to New York with the crew in.

* * *

And then they were introduced to their' trainers, a one Adam Copeland also known as Edge and one Joan Laurer otherwise known as Chyna. Abeebah knew even less about these people than she did of their' boss and wasn't particularly impressed by either. 'Edge' was a classic California blond with his thousand watt smile, and excitable tendency to be overly chatty. Chyna was polite but distinctly flexing her overly developed muscles at them, a clear show of territorial dominance. Abeebah didn't care but she could see Delia silently fuming.

She sighed and cast a sidelong look toward Brandon silently asking him to speak so she didn't have to. Brandon caught the look and held back the urge to roll his eyes, it was always like this, Abeebah rarely liked to deal with other people's personal problems. Emotions weren't her forte', so if there were so much as a hint of emotional issues, she'd usually pass if off on him. Normally, he didn't mind, but after a week of dealing with his own issues, plus saying goodbye to everything he ever knew was putting a strain on him. So Brandon gave her glance that clearly stated she was on her own this time. Abeebah couldn't bring herself to be anything but mildly annoyed with her brother.

Chyna looked at the newest arrivals, and her eyes were immediately drawn to the eldest. The girl wasn't overly tall or muscled, for that matter in fact the only think really different about that the ninth wonder of the world could see was the prominent scar down the right side of her face. Yet Chyna couldn't help but be angered by the way the brat looked at her dismissively. She smiled nastily, "Abeebah is a bit of a mouthful mind if I call you Scarface?" Evan, Brandon, and Delia were insulted on their' sister's behalf but said nothing as they saw the absolutely feral grin on Abeebah's face and amused glint in her eyes.

"Three syllables too much for ya? It's alright Chyna just call me Morte." Edge laughed loudly at Triple H's bodyguard, "damn Chyna that was one hell of a burn you need some ice for that?" The strong woman glared at the brood member, and rounded on Mr. McMahon, saying that she would never train such an egotistical child, and stormed off without so much as another word. Vince looked furious for a moment. However Linda put her hand on his shoulder saying that it was probably for the best, and that she would find another to take Chyna's place.

Vince visibly calmed down, and thanked his wife before turning his attention back to the Johns siblings. "Morte?" Abeebah shrugged, "My family always had a bit of a reputation superstitious neighbors did the rest." Vince looked mildly interested, as he had seen mention of the nickname when he went to do a background check on the Johns siblings, however there was no mention as to why Abeebah was christened Death. Mercifully Linda interrupted him from asking 'why' she was given the nickname. "Alright if your death what does that make you," Mrs. McMahon asked with a raised eyebrow toward Abeebah's younger siblings.

Delia gave the CEO a grin that echoed Abeebah's earlier expression almost perfectly, "Viluppo." Brandon crossed his arms with a sigh; "Guerra and short stuff over here is Lue." Evan glared at his brother but said nothing. "Those are perfect ring names, if you all would consider it." Delia stared at Linda, "no offense to Evan," she nodded to her little brother, "but he won't be wrestling or getting involved in the ring in any way." Brandon and Abeebah nodded in agreement, and though he was annoyed Evan understood that he was still pretty much a kid, and more likely to get hurt no matter how skilled he was. Wrestling wasn't street brawling. He knew that even better than his older siblings. But then he got an idea, "I can be your assistant."

Incredulous Edge looked down at the boy, "aren't you a bit young for that." Evan's eyes ignited with scorching distain, "I'm old enough." Abeebah watched the blond back down in what she was sure was a rare sign of intelligence. Linda smiled, "I think that could work out fine, do you agree Vince." Her husband nodded, "now that, that's out of the way here's your' contracts." Vince handed Abeebah, Brandon, and Delia each a contract respectively, and gave them a few minutes to read it over to see if they were satisfied before the siblings signed.

* * *

Linda and Vince welcomed them to the WWF, using their' new ring names and shaking their' hands. Afterward, Edge ushered them onto the bus they were taking to New York, and talked to each of them for most of the trip. Edge wanted to get a feel for his three new students, and Evan turned out to be a great source of information on each of their' fighting styles, and how it could be translated into wrestling moves. It turned out that each of his new students were all very aggressive fighters, with a wide array of dirty moves that would put some of the worst in the WWF to shame. Delia for instance, made it a habit to always wear at least three heavy rings, bracelets and spiked heels for good measure to add more force behind her blows.

She wasn't above pulling out hair or going for the eyes either. Brandon while not quite as colorful with his brand of fighting was just as brutal his style being focused on either damaging the head, back, or both permanently if possible. However, Abeebah was the most methodical out of the three. Evan described her fighting style as more like a wild animal hunting rather than an actual style. Abeebah could spot even the most well hidden opening, and would go at like a hyena to a fresh kill.

Her arsenal ranged from moves from classical martial arts to down and dirty street fighting. Edge flinched when the youngest Johns went on to explain his sister's 'signature move'. The nutcracker was a technique where Abeebah would soccer kick a male opponent so hard in the groin that they would be lifted off the ground. "Usually I do it with steel-toed boots," Abeebah added with a shrug. That was another thing that the conversation between the Canadian superstar and the Johns siblings was made abundantly clear.

All of them even the youngest had a level of sadism that Edge had only seen among the darker crowd in the locker room. And he felt slightly ill thinking about what could have caused such a trait to emerge in ones so young. One thing for sure it was going to be one hell of a ride training them. Three weeks and countless sessions later, and Edge couldn't have been more right. It had been a long and hard journey, to turn the no holds bard brawling the three siblings had used all their' lives into wrestling moves that though harmful were not lethal.

* * *

Most of the time the Johns' would use each other to demonstrate to Edge what 'legal' moves they did know, while Evan helped edit the moves that were not. Between the two of them they managed to tailor a sizable arsenal for Abeebah, Brandon, and Delia. Some of the superstars even stopped to watch them. This was especially true when Mankind Maguire had wondered past, just in time to see Brandon perform his newly invented move, T.N.P. The T.N.P was a variation of the infamous torture rack, but instead of grabbing an arm and a leg across the shoulders, Brandon grabbed the arms right under the armpits and flexed his shoulders, so that the arms would bend backwards in an unnatural angle.

Foley was impressed by the move, but was even more impressed with his sister's counter. While Delia still dangled precariously from her brother's back, she wrapped her arms around Brandon's throat, and pulled down with all her weight into a neck breaker. The counter worked well, making the six foot boy drop to his knees and allowing Delia to slide off his back with a gasp. After both of them caught their' breath, and regained their' footing, they stood glaring at each other. "Was that really necessary?" Delia smirked as she always did when she was in the mood to cause total carnage, "necessary, no, satisfying, most definitely." Mick Foley shook his head and went on his way.

Brandon smirked right back and they went back to using each other as test dummies for their' new moves, while Edge worked with Abeebah to perfect hers. However Edge couldn't train with the three of them all the time, because of his position as a member of the brood, and being a wrestler in general so when he was attending to his other duties Sable, Chyna's replacement took over. The diva was wary of all four of them especially when she found out what their' ring names meant. But after spending hours talking with surprisingly Delia, while the WWF roster traveled from New Jersey to New York, the blond haired bombshell warmed up to the other three Johns siblings.

She even helped them with designing their' ring gear. And on their' sixth week of training, Evan ran into the temporary gym that had just been set up back stage the night before. Abeebah, Brandon, and Delia were already there and warming up. He dropped the three packages he'd been carrying on the mat catching their' attention immediately. They instantly took notice of the outfit he was wearing. Their' little brother was wearing a suite. Evan was dressed suavely in gray button up shirt with white pin stripes with an Asian cut black jacket over it.

Abeebah raised an eyebrow when she caught sight of a dapple gray horse patch sewn on his sleeve. Abeebah's eyebrow swiftly elevated even further when she spotted the crisp white sneakers peaking out from under the pant legs of his black dress pants. Over all, the entire outfit made Evan look very mature while still being physically functional as well. Delia and Brandon were on their' feet in a blink of the eye, and congratulating the youngest of them on his new attire. Abeebah hung back; even with no one there to witness it she wasn't comfortable with public displays of affection, so instead she waited for Brandon and Delia to give Evan hugs before moving forward herself and popping his collar.

Evan gave his eldest sister one of his rare heart stopping smiles at the small gesture of approval. Then he pointed to the boxes he dropped on the mat just moments ago. "Those are yours' take a look." Almost in sync Abeebah, Brandon, and Delia rolled their' eyes and did as they were told. Written on each of the boxes in bold letters were their' ring names, and each of them opened their' package respectively. Delia squealed at the sight of her ring attire and immediately ran off without saying a word.

Abeebah didn't know whether she should be annoyed, or not since they all knew that Delia was just going to try her stuff on. She looked down at her own outfit and felt a minute smile spreading across her lips. The steel gray cotton of her new gi was surprisingly soft against her calloused fingers tips. And stitched into the collar was a beautiful white horse. Looking up Abeebah could see Brandon raise his navy blue pants, which had a golden stallion sewn on the right knee. He smirked, "you think somebody is trying to tell us something."

She snorted, "they want a gimmick, and what better gimmick than the legendary four horsemen of the Apocalypse." Brandon rolled his massive shoulders and sighed. "The shoe fits, why not just wear it?" "Because the shoe is a ratty, raggedy, worn out piece of shit," she quipped back. Hoarse laughter answered her. Simultaneously all three of them looked up just in time to see Sable stumble and faint right onto the unforgiving concrete floor. She was bleeding from the mouth.

Brandon dropped his new ring attire and swiftly made his way to Sable's side, Abeebah right behind him. Kneeling down he checked the blonds pulse, and sighed in relief when he felt a weak but steady rhythm. The burly teenager glanced at his sister, "she's going to need a doctor." Abeebah shot her brother an amused look, "I'm supposed to be the manipulative one," and a hint of worry crept in her voice. There was no telling who was Sable's attacker and if said attacker was still in the vicinity, and there was no way in hell she would let Evan leave either of their' sights.

Brandon's eyes softened, when his sister was like this he felt like doing anything she said. Brandon looked down quickly avoiding eye contact. "I learned from the best," he gazed steadily down at Sable's broken form; "she needs a doctor." Abeebah stood with a sigh, "don't go anywhere," and without a backwards glance she went to find help. The dark haired brawler stalked down the halls of Madison square garden carefully. There were few people who would show up this early in the morning and Abeebah wasn't too keen on getting caught off guard. She glanced around a corner to see one of Vince's personal assistants coming her way.

* * *

"Hey," the mousy looking assistant jumped and Abeebah quickly relaxed her stance so as not to scare the little man anymore as she had already done. But before Abeebah could say anything he spoke, "M- Ms. Morte M- McMa- McMahon would like t- to see y- you in his o- office." Abeebah wanted to snarl, "Fine, can you do me a favor," at the terrified man's hasty nod she continued, "Call 911 my brothers are in the gym with Sable, she's been attacked." Abeebah never seen anyone move so fast, in the time it took her to blink the assistant was already down the hall and running toward the makeshift gym.

For a moment Abeebah seriously considered going back to the gym and ignoring Mr. McMahon's summons but common sense kicked in telling her she was not that valuable to the pompous businessman yet. Tilting her head back, Abeebah forcibly relaxed her muscles once more and walked to where Vince's 'office' was set up. The door was already open and Vince and someone else were inside waiting for her. Vince stood from his seat with a sly smile that she was quickly finding annoying.

"Ah, there you are come in, Morte there is someone I'd like you to meet," Vince beckoned the dark haired youth to enter and she did so with a small smile on her lips. She didn't even bother looking at the person sitting in front of McMahon's desk, as she plopped down in the seat next to them. "Sorry I took so long Mr. McMahon Sable has been attacked". Immediately a worried frown crossed the owner of the WWF's face. Abeebah wondered if he was worried about Sable, or the matches he has to cancel now that the blond haired diva was taken out. "Is she alright?"

She shrugged empathically, "Sable was bleeding from the mouth when I left her with Guerra and Lue, and the assistant you sent after me should be calling 911." Vince sat right back in his seat and laced his fingers together, "I'll see to whoever did this is punished severely you have my word." Now Abeebah was truly amused and let her smile widen minutely. "Whatever happens to Sable's attacker is none of my business Mr. McMahon, please save your assurances for Sable." Now the man who was sitting silently next to her actually looked her way.

Acid green eyes stared holes in the side of her head, but Abeebah has been glared at by worse, namely her father. "Now who is it that you wanted to introduce me to?" Vince cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Morte this is the Undertaker he'll be your tag team partner for your debut tonight." Finally Abeebah glanced at the man sitting next her. He was a giant just as Evan had described with hair that was a dark auburn and eyes an impossible shade of green. And when she met that calculating gaze with her own, Abeebah felt a slow warming in the pit of her stomach and fought the feeling of shock that wanted slither up her spine. She only felt this level of awareness with three other human beings all of them were her siblings.

Abeebah didn't like it, not one bit but hid it well with her smile and easy grace as she stood from her seat, "until tonight then." She left without another word. Vince let her go without saying 'whom' she and the Undertaker were going up against. He turned his gaze to the man still sitting before him. Taker was staring after the dark skinned female an intense look in his eyes. Immediately another scheme came to mind and Vince cleared his throat to get his employee's attention. It worked; the dead man swung his gaze toward his boss an indistinguishable look on his face. "Who is she," Undertaker's voice finally rumbled throughout his office.

* * *

Vince smirked, "Morte is one of Sable's protégées. She is the oldest." "And the others?" "Guerra, Viluppo, and Lue are her younger siblings," Vince searched the younger man's face for any hint of emotion, "she is impressive to watch." A flash of 'something' crossed the normally stoic visage, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "She is a child." Vince's answering smirk was not reassuring, "Morte is a remarkable wrestler, and I'm sure she will live up to her name and perhaps meet even your high expectations." The McMahon was just answered by Undertaker's blank stare. Slowly the red head stood to his feet, the entire weight of his stare focused on Vince McMahon from the lofty height of the Undertaker's 6'10 frame.

"She better or her suffering will be compared nothing to yours." And with that he left. As soon as he was out of earshot Vince laughed in triumph, finally he had a way to manipulate the Undertaker further into his grasp. Morte had down well without even knowing it. Vince McMahon smiled smugly as he thought of his newest acquisitions, each one more dangerous than the other in one way or another. They were all sure to put more fans in the arenas, and put down any opposition that came their' way, thus meaning more money in his pocket. And perhaps he would finally have a solution to his Stone cold/Undertaker/Kane problem.


	2. The debut

A/N: Wow this is a long one but I had the case of brain diarrhea on this one I just hope you enjoy it. Anyway send plenty of reviews. -Rei

* * *

Abeebah returned to the 'gym' after a ten minute hiatus to straighten out what happened in her own head. The brunet haired woman went through what happened in Vince McMahon's office over and over again. She was debuting tonight, not next week, not next month, tonight. And to make things even more screwed up she not only had to debut tonight, sure that she was less than prepared to fight as a wrestler instead of a survivor but she also had to team up with the deadman himself.

All because she allowed herself to be manipulated, all because she didn't like the familial feeling she was sensing off of a man she didn't know nor trust. As soon as she entered Delia was already there with Brandon and Evan waiting for her. Sable and the assistant that she told to call the emergency room were gone. Delia took one look at her and glares, "what the fu-". Before she could say another word Brandon covered her mouth with the palm of his hand and smiled in exasperation.

"What she means to ask is there any problems to deal with"? Delia ripped his hand from her mouth but remained silent, waiting to hear her sister's answer. Abeebah shrugged, "McMahon is debuting me tonight in a tag match", she paused for effect, and "my partner is Undertaker". "WHAT"?!! Evan's lower jaw unhinged and dropped firmly to the floor.

His eldest sister snorted rudely, walking forward Abeebah shut his mouth with an audible click. "I didn't stutter little brother". Evan huffed in annoyance and crossed his arms over his chest, "so you're serious"? Abeebah quirked her lip in the Mona Lisa smile she was most known for. Disgruntled the youngest turned around and stomped to a nearby bench and planted himself on it, "ok, you deal with her", he called out to Brandon.

His elder brother cast Abeebah an annoyed look, "who are you up against"? She blinked slowly, "I didn't stick around long enough to find out". Brandon pinched the bridge of his nose, "Dios me da la fuerza". "Amen", Delia and Evan chimed together glaring at their' unconcerned elder sister. Amused Abeebah sank onto the mat in a graceful sprawl, "it's easy enough to find out who-". "You're gonna ask", interrupted Delia with a raised eyebrow.

"No", Abeebah rotated her shoulders hoping to get the kinks out, "process of elimination, who are the top two beefs Undertaker has right now Evan"? "Shawn Michaels and Steve Austin", he answered automatically. "Okay, which of those two are gonna come with back up more accurately female back up".

Evan blinked in amazement, "Shawn Michaels is apart of D generation X and Chyna just so happens to be their' only female member", it made sense. Delia grimaced, "you mean that same he/she that was supposed to teach us". Evan nodded a thoughtful look on his face. "She's not the only one you're gonna have to worry about out there Beebs the rest of DX aren't above 'helping out' once in a while and most likely they're gonna go after you".

The brunet made absentminded gestures with her hands. "Then Brandon if you don't mind, come out with me", she glanced at her two youngest siblings, "Delia, Evan, any stragglers backstage are yours to do with them what you will if they try to interfere". Both of them gave Abeebah matching malicious grins. This could prove to be a fun night after all. It was then that the eldest Johns took notice of her little sister's ring attire. Delia was garbed in a ridiculously short black pinstriped skirt and electric blue vest.

On the back stitched in sharp relief was a black steed, head lowered as if to charge. Had it been anyone else Abeebah seriously doubted they would be able to pull the simultaneously sultry/business attire and make it look classy like Delia was. But somehow she did it even where the thigh high combat boots and matching knee and arm pads with an easy smile and grace. She smiled back, "Nice outfit". Elsewhere in his darkened dressing room the Undertaker sat alone contemplating the events that happened this passing year thus far.

His manager Paul Bearer betrayed him not once but twice. First by taking the side of Mankind and when the insane over jovial glutton for punishment proved ineffective Bearer turned heel once more by revealing that his baby brother whom he thought dead for years was in fact alive and very pissed. Kane had yet to make another appearance after the hell in the cell match but the Phenom didn't doubt for one moment that he was truly alive.

The part of his soul that had long fallen baron was now alight with the flames of his brother's tumultuous emotions. Hate, anger, pain, confusion, and yes love battered the lord of darkness relentlessly. How the fat fuck Paul Bearer was able to hide his younger sibling's continued existence Undertaker had no idea but there was no doubt it was Kane and he had every intention of reclaiming him. 'Soon brother, soon', his mind whispered and more anger and confusion caused the light in his soul to spread like a brush fire.

He could sense Kane but much like when they were children he couldn't where he was, only his emotions. Undertaker sighed at the heat that was filtering into his frozen heart, causing the darkness to recede but not disappear completely into the back of his mind. He once thought this a weakness, only to find out many years since his family's 'death' that he would always crave Kane's all consuming light.

For there was no other way to describe Kane, who was so passionate as a child just as much as Undertaker was the epitome of concealed darkness. They tempered each other then even as the arguments between their' parents became violent and spilled down onto them. He was only six when the beatings began Kane was four. And these beatings continued until there was nothing left of the children Mark and Glen Calloway.

All that was left by the time Mark turned twelve and Glen turned ten was 'Taker' and 'Kane'. Monikers given to them by classmates, who preyed upon them endlessly. Ever the opportunist Paul who was in his father's employ at the time influenced Mark heavily and it didn't take long to convince Mark to go along with killing his parents. It was his idea to set the family funeral home ablaze.

'It's the only way you and Kane can be free', the slimy bastard had said oh so many years ago. And to his everlasting shame Taker believed him. It had been all planned out. That day while doing his choirs Taker would set fire to the highly flammable embalming fluid in the basement.

His mother was in the house cooking lunch as she usually did and his father was in the parlor preparing a body for burial as he usually did during that time of day. Everything had gone according to plan, everything save one little detail. Kane wasn't supposed to be in the house. Even after it was all said and done he continued to believe Paul Bearer and followed his every command.

Undertaker closed his eyes against the memories that wanted to pull him back into the lonely coldness that had surrounded him since the day he thought he murdered his brother. Forcibly he turned his attention toward his supposed tag team match tonight. He had gone to Vince demanding a rematch against HBK whom with the help of Kane defeated him in the first ever hell in a cell match.

Vince obliged, with the stipulation that he could only get a rematch if he defeated Triple H in a mixed tag match with a partner of the McMahon's choosing. The Phenom agreed for the simple fact that he was going to go after the ponytailed punk anyway. However he wanted to meet his partner well before that match. Vince agreed readily enough saying that coincidentally 'she was training'. Undertaker recalled the smug smile on the elder man's face as his 'pick' came into the room.

_Flashback _

"_Ah, there you are come in Morte there is someone I'd like you to meet", Vince beckoned the dark haired youth to enter and she did so with a small smile on her lips. Undertaker glanced at her from the corner of his eye before casting his eyes forward once more, too quickly for anyone to notice. "Sorry I took so long Mr. McMahon Sable has been attacked". Immediately a worried frown crossed the owner of the WWF's face._

_Undertaker held back the urge to laugh when the business tycoon gave 'Morte' assurances that the diva would be avenged. And was shocked enough to finally truly look at the woman when she out right laughed at Vince and told him on no uncertain terms that what happened to Sable's attacker was none of her business. She was pretty, he supposed, with hair a rich mane of chocolate brown and full youthful face. Morte' Undertaker was sure that she was not the type of woman Vince would bring into this business. _

_She wasn't ridiculously muscled like Chyna nor was she out right sexy like the other WWF divas. Compared to them this obvious twenty something was down right normal. "Now who is it that you wanted to introduce me to"? Vince nodded toward him. "Morte this is the Undertaker he'll be your tag team partner for your debut tonight". Then she locked gazes with him and the Undertaker felt a familiar sensation warm the pit of his stomach. _

_Cat hazel eyes looked at him with startled uneasiness a prominent scar running the length of the right side of her face. But as soon as the emotion was shown it was gone, replaced by the watchfulness of a fellow predator on the prowl with a disturbingly empty smile. She turned away from him, but Undertaker knew Morte felt it too but wasn't about to acknowledge it or force her to do so in front of Mr. McMahon. _

"_Until tonight then", she said and without so much as a backwards glance his way left. __Again he had to hold back a smirk, 'this one has balls'. When Vince cleared his throat Undertaker had to hold back a growl and turned his attention back to his employer. The businessman had a calculating look in his eyes that Undertaker had long become familiar with. _

_Internally he felt the darkness drift to the forefront of his heart concealing the cool hearted predator whose interest had been peeked by the dark female. Chillingly he spoke, "who is she"? __Vince smirked, "Morte is one of Sable's protégées, she is the oldest"._ _Undertaker's hand twitched, "And the others"? "Guerra, Viluppo, and Lue are her younger siblings"_

_Idly the deadman wondered if her siblings were anything like Morte, would they be able to feel him like she did? How were they able to feel each other in the first place when he was only ever able to feel Kane in such a manner starting when Mark seen him for the first time? So many questions left unanswered didn't sit well with Undertaker's more or less hidden curiosity._ _"Morte is a remarkable wrestler and I'm sure she will live up to her name and perhaps meet even your high expectations"._

_The McMahon was just answered by Undertaker's blank stare. Whatever manipulation the WWF owner was trying to allot to was not to his advantage so there was no reason to remain here. __Slowly the red head stood to his feet the entire weight of his stare focused on Vince McMahon from the lofty height of the Undertaker's 6'10 frame. "She better or her suffering will be compared nothing to yours". And with that he left._

_End Flashback _

Undertaker glanced around his room with an annoyed growl. He would get no answers by just sitting here. Unfolding his long limbs from the lotus position he had been in ever since he entered his dressing room Undertaker resolved to go to the 'gym' and discreetly pump Morte for information. 'She'll be there', he thought with certainty as another set of emotions filtered into his being that wasn't Kane's or his own. Undertaker walked to the 'gym' and was greeted with the sight of a young light skinned man being arm dragged by Morte who was notably smaller than him.

The near seven footer was even more impressed when she didn't let go of that arm and instead turned it into an arm bar. "I'm not going to tap out of this you know", the boy's low tenor voice wrung quietly through the air. Morte pulled his captured arm back and further to her chin while lifting her hips forcing the boy to tap. She let him go with an amused smirk. "Morte", Immediately Undertaker, Morte, and the boy she was wrestling glanced over where another boy and girl sat watching him with weariness.

"Your partner's here". Annoyed confusion came to the front of Undertaker's mind. 'Definitely Morte', the Phenom thought as the emotion was not intense enough to be Kane and too razor sharp to be one of his own. Morte looked at him with none of what he knew she was feeling on her face, only the same amused smile that she seemed to constantly wear. And surprisingly Undertaker wanted to see what the expression would look like on her face.

Shaking the odd feeling off him turned his attention back outward, "Morte, I'll be training with you". More annoyance forced its way into his mind along with a hint of resignation, "Fine". Abeebah turned to regard her brothers and sister. And before she even opened her mouth Delia interrupted, "I'm stay'n Morte besides your going to need me to help you get ready for tonight". For a second Abeebah's smile dropped but she turned away from them all, "do what you want". "Then we're staying too", said Evan casting a look toward the giant whom was her sister's tag partner.

Abeebah crossed her arms over her breast and looked toward him. "Then I might as well make introductions, Undertaker these are my brother's Lue" the pixy thin boy moved forward, "and Guerra" the light skinned boy tilted his head in a slight bow. "The loud mouth is my sister Viluppo". Undertaker nodded to each of them and made eye contact but did not feel the connection he felt with their' sister. Viluppo was glaring daggers at her eldest sibling but as usual it had no effect.

"One of these days dear heart one of these days", the wiry beauty said in a mock threatening voice. Abeebah ignored her and cocked her head slightly, "so is there something specific you have in mind or are we just improvising"? "Just some basic exercises", Undertaker rumbled quietly. That got a raised eyebrow from the girl but she didn't argue. Guerra moved away from the mat, giving the two of them room but close enough to intervene if Undertaker tried anything. He snorted internally, 'like he could do anything'.

Morte's gaze snapped toward him a look of confusion and irritation flashing across her face. But once again she schooled her expression into neutrality and they began with stretching. Though she was already warmed up Abeebah stretched anyway, sending glances at her younger siblings once every so often. She didn't know why Undertaker was here but from the description Evan gave her and what she seen for herself he wouldn't be here without a reason. And the feeling she got every time she is around her brothers and sister had changed.

Now Abeebah could feel ghostly touches of curiosity and irritation, it only served to agitate her more as she had no answer for it. 'What the hell is going on', she all but screamed in her own mind. Acid green eyes were now fixated on her with an intensity that disturbed the young Philadelphian. There was a clear demand for answers in those eyes and all she could do was glare back helplessly because she herself didn't have any. Closing her eyes Abeebah let out an explosive breath, 'relax and keep smiling', she ordered herself. Slowly but surely Abeebah got herself under control, then glanced over at her siblings to see if they noticed.

One quick glance at Evan and Delia proved they had not while one look from Brandon confirmed he had noticed but he cast his eyes downward telling her without words he would not call attention to it. She sent him a genuine smile of thankfulness. Undertaker was watching her again she could feel it and had never felt the urge so badly to do violence raise within herself. 'Calm down', she scowled herself, 'not the time nor the place and definitely not the right one to flip out on'.

Suddenly Undertaker spoke, "your name, what does it mean"? 'Is he intentionally trying to push me', she wondered, almost losing her composure once more. "Morte is Italian for death". Low laughter answered her, "what made you pick that"? Bile rose swift and fierce up her throat as memories tried to pierce the frozen barrier of her heart. "I didn't". The air around them seemed to drop abruptly and her siblings immediately took notice. "Beebs", timidly Evan made his way to his sister but knew better than to touch her. Undertaker was driven to one knee as the continuous stream of awareness cut at him like a sharply honed blade.

"Umm guys", Delia pointed toward their' sister's tag partner. Brandon's hazel flecked orbs flashed ominously "leave him we need to calm her down first". Evan didn't pay attention as he tried to call his sister out of the glacial prison she always placed herself in when she has been pushed too far. "Any idea what broke the camel's back", Delia watched their' little brother coaxed Abeebah back into reality using only his voice. Deftly Brandon pointed to the downed giant, "I don't know how and I don't know why but it has something with this joker". "Who are you call'n joker boy".

The Johns siblings turned to regard the deadman in sync. Undertaker was still trying to shake off the cobwebs with little to no success. Brandon growled, he didn't give a damn who this man was if he did any of this on purpose and maybe still if he didn't as god as his witness Brandon would destroy him. "You obviously", he snarled. Any response Undertaker was about to give was cut off by Abeebah, "stop". Brandon looked at his now composed sister incredulously Delia and Evan doing the same. "He doesn't know what is going on either, that's why he's here", she cast her flat gaze toward Undertaker, "leave please".

Finally the deadman managed to stand to his feet and he glared coldly at Abeebah. "I ain't go'n nowhere till ah get answers", Undertaker's bass southern drawl sent chills down Evan and Delia's spine. However Brandon was too incensed to give a damn and Abeebah couldn't care even less. She gave the big man a feral smile, "sorry let me rephrase that, you are going to leave". The dead man moved forward to loom over Abeebah only to be stopped short by Guerra who stepped in his path. "Get out my way". Fury lit the smaller man's eyes making the hazel flecks glow an unholy light.

"Stop it", once again Abeebah interceded her eyes locked with the Undertaker's and her delicate looking hand locked on her brother's arm. "You came here for answers and I have none", the Phenom felt Abeebah's razor sharp rage cut deeply in his own mind. Inwardly Undertaker flinched. "And since I know threatening you would be a waste of both time and breath, let me just say this", She moved past her brother to stare up into the eyes of the lord of darkness, "you do not want to go to war with me". So sincere was the notably smaller wrestler Undertaker was more than a little inclined to listen especially with the shadow of her emotions overshadowing his own.

For a long moment he just stared at Abeebah, fighting with himself on what he should do. Then finally, "we have a match to win tonight, show me what going to war with you will mean". He turned his back on the Johns and left to wherever he was going to prepare for the impending match leaving the siblings to commune amongst themselves. Grabbing Abeebah's arm Brandon forcefully turned his sister around. "What the hell is going on Abeebah"? Not even bothering to play around like she'd usually do Abeebah sent her usually level headed brother a quelling look.

"Undertaker is like me", "WHAT"?!! The dark haired woman stalked right by her stunned siblings and toward the place where Evan her and Brandon's ring attire. "I can feel him", she stated simply as she bent down and retrieved the box containing her ring attire. "He can feel me", she added almost absently. Delia frowned, "how I thought the only reason you inherited was because 'they' played around with your insides". "Hence my telling big bad and loco that I have no idea what was going on, because truthfully I don't got a clue".

Evan flinched at the cold bite of his sister's voice grated at them ominously. The Undertaker wanted to see what going to war against Morte would entail and tonight each and every one of them were sure she would show him in spades. The Johns spent the rest of the day trying to distract Abeebah from the impending match and connection to a man she didn't know nor like. They went out and explored New York, visiting the statue of liberty and going to Broad Street to buy clothes and souvenirs. They returned soon after talking to the stage hands as they prepared.

But as the sun set in the garden and time for the show drew near, Abeebah could no longer be sidetracked. The liquid fire in her eyes doused and her focus narrowed. She had no doubt Chyna would come at her with foolish anger because of their' first introduction. And she wasn't going to be taken out because of some steroid freak had an attitude problem. She sighed as she and Delia changed in the locker room provided to them while Evan and Brandon changed in the bathroom. This was not the future she had envisioned for herself or her siblings. "What is it Beebs"?

Abeebah glanced up at her sister who was now fully dressed and regarding her with mild worry. Not for the first time she marveled at her sister's beauty. Delia was so unlike her hot tempered and passionate, the younger woman had inherited their' mother's personality and good looks. And not surprisingly she was the most manipulative of their' little family using her good looks to her full advantage. And her ring attire showcased that beauty perfectly. Abeebah tightened the laces on her combat boots.

"Braid my hair will ya"? Delia stared at her for a moment before sashaying over to the bench where she sat and retrieving a comb from her gym bag Delia began. They didn't speak a word even when Brandon dressed in his ring attire and Evan garbed in non-descript black sweats returned from the bathroom. And the two brothers just watched Delia part the thick fall of her brown curls evenly and braid them only half way before tying it off. She left the back untouched and smiled at her handy work.

Walking around Abeebah to assess how the style looked from the front Delia frowned. "Something's missing", she clucked her tongue thoughtfully. Delia had braided Abeebah's back and away from her face letting the mass of curls in the back drape over Abeebah's shoulders, emphasizing on the fullness there. But it also made her scar stand out even more so than it usually did especially with the hard glint glittering in danger in her eyes. She shoot a sideway's glance to Brandon, "any ideas".

He cocked his head and looked at Abeebah critically taking in every detail of her ring attire. Yet looking at her Brandon couldn't help but agree with Delia. There was just something about it that should be there, that would make it complete. Suddenly he smiled and stood to his feet, "wait just a minute", and rushed out of their' locker room. For a moment the remaining Johns siblings stared after him wandering what in the hell Brandon had in mind. Then, "you gave him sugar didn't you". Delia shot Evan a mock glare, "I'm not that crazy".

Abeebah got up with a sigh and walked over to the cheap floor length mirror that was set up by the bathroom door. She stared at her reflection and silently admired the person reflected back at her. This was not Abeebah Johns, Abeebah Johns would never wear eye catching material no matter how functional it was. Abeebah Johns would never allow herself to fight for the entertainment of others, and Abeebah Johns no matter how angry she became would never show it until her opponent was well on their' way to being taken out, permanently.

'When have I changed', she wondered silently, 'when did I go from being just another survivor to being a fighter, a wrestler'? Chocolate curls cascaded down Abeebah's shoulders, framing her rounded face beautifully and harkening attention to her arched brows full lips and menacing eyes. Abeebah balled her fist, her black bandaged hands tight to reassure herself they would hold. The fluorescent light of the locker room caught the sheen off her steel gray gi, making it seem like it was glowing against the deep earthy tone of her skin. Her pants fit loosely against her thighs and bunched at her ankles where her combat boots began.

'I look good', she admitted to herself but like her siblings Abeebah thought something was missing. "Penny for your thoughts"? Evan moved to stand next her in the mirror, looking at his own reflection even though he wasn't wearing his ring attire. His eldest sister cast him one of her patented amused looks, "I should hope my thoughts are worth more than a penny Evan". He rolled his eyes and glanced over to where Delia sat studiously applying make up on herself. "I walked right into that one didn't I"?

"Yes you did". Eyes so much like, and yet so different from her own glared up at her, "so"? Seeing he wasn't going back down and Brandon was no where in sight Abeebah sighed. "I'm just deal'n little brother that's all". Her willowy younger sibling nodded slowly and backed off knowing she would say no more on the subject. The cold rage that glittered unpromisingly in her eyes didn't lessen, even for him. Before an uncomfortable silence could settle between them Brandon returned a black mask in hand. He immediately handed it to Abeebah. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of her old Halloween mask.

The black and silver jaguar mask was made for her by an artist friend she made in high school and was forged from the spare car parts. She smiled almost fondly at the memory of receiving it on the very day the Halloween dance was to occur. It was perfect. Wordlessly Abeebah handed the mask back to Brandon and turned to look at her reflection once more as Brandon put the mask on her face and lifted the back part of her hair to secure the sturdy straps. Letting the curls slip through his fingers Brandon flagged his younger siblings over to take a look at their' eldest sibling.

Evan and Delia gasped, looking at their' sister as if she were another person. "So d'ya think I'm ready", Abeebah asked rhetorically. All three of her younger siblings groaned in exasperation and they all gave her a playful shove. Suddenly there was a knock at the door and unceremoniously a stage hand entered. The petite female took one look at them and flinched, "Ms. Morte"? "Yeah", Abeebah stepped from the throng of her siblings. "You're on in five". Surprised she finally noticed the echoing voices of the crowd as they cheered. 'It's time'.

"Welcome to Monday Night RAW! Folks, I'm Jerry 'The King' Lawler and with me is good ol' JR, Jim Ross". "Thanks King, well ya'll we in for a real treat as later tonight DX members Chyna and Triple H go up against Undertaker and his mystery partner hand picked by Mr. McMahon himself". Jerry took over, "which definitely spells bad news for those degenerates if you ask me". The Oklahoma cowboy rolled his eyes. "Yes it does King, Undertaker alone could get the job done but this is going to be a mixed tag match so the question is who is his partner and what woman would be crazy enough to tag with the deadman".

"Doesn't matter JR we get to see a cat fight tonight". Ross once again rolled his eyes, "get your' mind out of the gutter King this is fixing to be one hell of a slobber knockka especially with Undertaker gun'n for DX". Unrepentant Lawler shrugged, "what can I say JR I love puppies". "Yes I know that King". A stage technician quickly made his way to the announce table and whispered into JR's ear. "Well hold the phone folks, looks like we're gonna get to know Mr. McMahon's pick a little early".

Suddenly the stadium was filled with Vince's theme music and the crowd watched on as the titantron played the millionaire's video and the man himself strutted down the catwalk. The arrogant swagger incited a many a buu from the crowd but Vincent McMahon didn't care he owned this show and thus owned them. He made his way to the ring microphone in hand with his head of security the big boss man just a few steps behind him. Stepping into the ring Vince took in the crowd before as his music faded away and the footage on the titantron was cut.

The roar of the thousands of voice shook the garden to its foundations and he put the mic to his lips. "Well I guess you're all wondering why I am here". "Earlier today Undertaker came to my office demanding a rematch between himself and Shawn Michaels". The audience cheered loudly, "but you see that would be too easy and Degeneration X as a whole has much to answer for where I am concerned and where the Undertaker is concerned". They cheered even louder rattling the very ring beneath Vince's feet. "So I, in my infinite wisdom", JR scoffed, "came to a perfect solution". "a mixed tag match between Chyna and Triple H against the Undertaker and a diva of my choosing".

Behind the announcers table King was flashing his million watt smile, "you gotta admit JR it is a great plan". "I reserve my judgment on that one King". Now Vince had a smile on his face, "however this solution presented another problem, what WWF diva is good enough to enter the ring right here in Madison Square Garden, what diva is tough enough to take on the ninth wonder of the world Chyna, and what diva is worthy to join forces with the Phenom the Undertaker". That really got the crowd going and once again Vince was amazed how many fans the dark man had despite his persona. After a few moments when the cheers died down he resumed his dialogue, "well it just so happens that a few weeks ago I had signed some new talents to the WWF roster".

"What's he talking about King"? "I don't know JR". "And one them I think, no I know fit the bill, so without a further ado I present to you one fourth of the horsemen of the Apocalypse MORTE". All of a sudden the lights in the arena dimmed and took on a blue tint and Hope by Apocalyptica blared from the titantron. The crowd went wild and Abeebah walked out from behind the curtain for the first time. For a moment she stood frozen at the top of the ramp, stunned by deafening ruckus the mass of people generated.

Slowly she turned her face from the left and to the right taking it all in before facing forward once more, focusing on the ring and the man who stood at its center with his crony at his side. The smug smirk he was wearing made Abeebah feel dirty but she walked down the ramp anyway and took her sweet time in doing so. 'No need to rush, just take your opponent in your own stride'. She repeated the lesson she gave her siblings on a regular basis in her head. The Philadelphia native could hear the two commentators speculating already on her attire and why she was wearing a mask.

She held back the urge to maim the pervert Jerry 'the King' when he whined about how she didn't look like a woman. And then Abeebah held back laughter as good ol' JR told the former wrestler to shut up. Vince watched her slow but steady approach seeing how the audience responded to his newest superstar. It was simply awe inspiring, the way Morte stalked down the ramp with animal grace her mask, which he admitted to himself was a nice touch glittered ominously in the low light.

She seemingly paid no mind to the big boss man as she slid into the ring and stood to her feet in one smooth motion. Moving forward she stood well enough away from her employer who frowned at the blatant show of distrust. But just as he was about to speak once more Vince was interrupted by the DX theme music and he immediately turned his ire toward the ramp where Chyna, surprisingly on her own walked from behind the curtain.

Morte watched Chyna approach the ring her dark gaze livid and focused on her. The newly inducted wrestler was not impressed. Chyna stopped a few feet away from actually entering and brought a microphone to her lips. "Vince you can't be serious about letting this", she made a hand gesture toward Morte, "fight me". Amused Morte smirked under her mask but said nothing in return to the obvious jibe.

"Actually Chyna I am dead serious about it". The crowd cheered at the look of disbelief on the diva's face. The owner of the WWF glared venomously at Chyna, "and you would do well to remember I AM VINCE MCMAHON AND I OWN THIS COMPANY THIS IS MY RING". Minutely both divas flinched as Vince's voice grated at their' nerves. Seeing the man was gearing to go once more Abeebah moved closer to her new boss and asked for the mic. Surprised he handed it over to her.

"Sorry to interrupt Mr. McMahon but I need to make a few things clear with Chyna right here and right now". Morte set her gaze firmly on Chyna's orbs, knowing that her rage still ran strong and it was visible in her eyes. "What could Morte possibly have to say to Chyna JR"? "I don't know King maybe she's going to respond to that blatant insult Chyna gave just moments ago". "I may be new to the world wrestling federation and I may not be a muscle bound bitch", the crowd oohed, "but I **am** someone that deserves respect".

Chyna was about to respond only have Morte cut her off. "No Ms. Thing it ain't ya turn to speak". The tall woman glared almost hatefully at her future opponent. Morte just shrugged off the look, "you and I are going to fight in this very ring tonight whether you protest or not and as for the why you would protest in the first place well, to tell the truth I don't give a fuck". "Ooh my", Jerry and JR exclaimed simultaneously. "We will fight", she reiterated, "which means two things for you". Abeebah paused letting the cheering wash over her for a moment.

Then she gave Chyna a toothy smile that though not visible it still came out in her voice which took on a feral quality. "Pain is inevitable", Morte stepped closer to the ropes and surprisingly Chyna stepped back, "suffering is optional". Triple H's bodyguard was furious but dare not get in the ring with Vince McMahon and his bodyguard still in the ring. Instead she withdrew, insults sweet on her tongue and rage turning her gut. As soon as she was sure Chyna was gone Abeebah handed the microphone back to Vince with a polite thank you left the arena without another word.

Back at the announcers table JR and King were talking about what they had just witnessed. "No fear or respect for Chyna that was for sure, but I can't help but wonder if this kid knows what she's doing". King shrugged, "you'll get no argument out of me there JR, and you can bet that Chyna will be going after the new girl after this one and with DX in her corner". The cowboy leaned back in his seat. "For Morte's sake I just hope she and the Undertaker are on the same page". "I don't know JR Mr. McMahon said that there are still three members of the horsemen faction yet to be revealed".

"There is that King, but then that begs to question whether the other horsemen can cut it against DX". Jerry waved his friend off, "we can speculate about this all night and not get an answer, because Vince is leaving". And the multimillionaire was leaving a smug smirk on his face for all to see, his teeth flashing prominently in the camera flashes. JR wanted to flinch, that smile meant a great deal of many things but none of them were good.

Abeebah made her way backstage and was immediately intercepted by Edge who pulled her into a dark corner and away from the hustle and bustle of just off stage. "Hey what's going on"? Annoyed at the blonde's accusatory tone she stared him done. "Sable was attacked and the big man decided to put me in a tag match with your lord". The Canadian flinched at the cool note in his 'former pupil's' voice. He scratched his head sheepishly as finally realized what he had done wrong, "sorry". Abeebah made an affirming noise in the back of her throat. "So, I guess this is it then".

Uncomfortable now she cast her gaze off to the side where she caught glimpses of other wrestlers getting ready for their' matches. "Yeah, well it's been real Edge". Edge smiled awkwardly at her, "well, good luck and I guess I'll see you around". He stepped away from Abeebah, "tell the others I said hi". Glancing up the eldest Johns could see the sadness in clear as day in the elder wrestler's eyes. It wasn't too much to ask, "I'll do that". He nodded and walked away, his head bowed slightly. Sighing Abeebah went on her own way back to her and her siblings' locker room. She wanted to avoid an ambush from Chyna and DX.

Throughout the rest of the show Abeebah remained in their' dressing room waiting for another curtain call. Her brothers and sister stayed with her knowing they needed to conserve energy for the match and the cheating that was bound to take place. It came sooner than expected as an hour and half into the show another assistant came to retrieve her. Abeebah shot Delia and Evan a look before she left Brandon following her. They nodded silently in understanding and the two elder siblings headed to the curtain.

Once they were there the assistant sent a questioning look toward Brandon. Smiling easily he spoke softly, "I'm valet for Morte tonight, I'm Guerra". Curtly the petite female nodded and scuttled off to inform the ring announcer. Brandon slowly inhaled through his nose before letting it out with a thunderous sigh. "Ready"? He glanced over at his sister's covered visage. Abeebah's eyes were still seething even after all the time she had to calm down but she still managed to be considerate to him. "As ready as I'm gonna be". He knew she was smirking under her mask but she said nothing. And for the second time that night her new theme music played on the titantron as she walked out Brandon at her side.

"THIS SCHEDULED MIXED TAG TEAM MATCH IS FOR ONE FALL, ENTERING FIRST TO THE RING BEING ACCOMPANIED BY GUERRA FROM PHILADELPHIA MORTE". Abeebah heard Brandon gasp before the sound was swallowed up by screaming fans. She didn't even bother fighting the urge to smirk at the look on his face. Brandon's green gaze was wide and his jaw slightly slack. It took him a moment to compose himself but when he did he smiled a mile wide and occasionally waved to the crowd. And for the first time Abeebah took notice of her brother's ring attire.

Brandon was dressed simply in a billowy short sleeved shirt and blue pants. She wasn't surprised to see his feet bare save for black bandages similar to her own wrapped around his feet. Her brother always favored dexterity over his raw strength and wrapped his hands in the same type of bandages instead of wearing padded gloves. Under the blue light Brandon's light skin seemed to take on an eerie glow as the loose material of his ring attire swayed with his movements. He looked the part of ancient warrior in his attire and Abeebah silently admired him as they made their' way to the ring.

"Well here comes the rooky JR and it looks like she brought a friend". "Probably one of the other three new talents Mr. McMahon was talking about earlier tonight King, but ya gotta wonder if he's just there for support or is an equalizer against DX". They stopped together at the foot of the ramp, Brandon looking at the red ropes like steel bars locking him out. For in a sense that was what they were, once Abeebah entered them she would battle it out with her opponent and he could not and would interfere. This was his sister's fight. He stood absolutely still as his elder sibling rolled under the bottom rope, up to her feet inside the ring and facing away from him.

Brandon sighed and moved to stand behind the corner Abeebah a chosen and looked toward the ramp waiting for the Undertaker's entrance. The referee stood off to the side waiting for the combatants as well. They didn't have to wait long as the tolling of a bell sounding from the titantron and the lights turned purple. He came out of the back with fog floating in his wake and his eyes locking with his partner even through the haze. "AND HER PARTNER, WEIGHING IN AT THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY POUNDS FROM DEATH VALLEY THE UNDERTAKER".

If Brandon thought the cheers he and Abeebah received were loud than the reception the deadman received was mind blowing. Yet Undertaker paid them no mind as he slowly made his way toward the ring. Brandon stood frozen, wondering what hell he was thinking when he had insulted this mammoth of a man earlier. "And here comes the Phenom and you got to wonder will the Undertaker be able to coexist with this virtual unknown especially up against DX". "JR since when has the Undertaker been able to coexist with anybody? Morte needs to just sit back relax and stay out of his way". Morte heard the comment and ignored it.

As JR once again told King to shut up and rebuffed the former wrestler thoroughly. Undertaker walked up the steel steps leading to the ring, spreading his robe out so as not to trip on it. Abeebah breathed in deeply, trying vainly to hold on to the composure she had managed to retain during the day. However looking into the eyes of the Undertaker only served as a reminder that she had a connection to him, a connection she did not want yet did not know how to break.

Undertaker stopped at the top of the steps and rolling his eyes in the back of his head raised his hands. He two was struggling with his own confusion and anger but there was a match to win and Undertaker was not going to jeopardize that. The lights went back to normal and Undertaker's music faded away. He entered the ring and immediately got up close and personal with Abeebah. Jerry and everyone else looked on in shock, "Hey what's he doing, is the Undertaker going attack his partner"? "I hope not King".

Outside the ring Guerra stiffened but made no move to enter, 'this is her fight, she can handle herself', he fervently hoped what he told himself was true in this situation. Meanwhile inside the ring Abeebah stared up into Undertaker's compelling gaze with barely leashed intensity of her own. The tension in the air grew thick but neither of them backed down till finally Undertaker turned his back to Abeebah and took off his robe revealing his all black ring attire.

Under her mask Morte snorted getting his message loud and clear, 'I'll ignore if you do'. Shrugging she cast an exasperated look toward her brother who knew what the Phenom had done by turning his back to a possible threat as well. "Phew that was close one JR", "I agree King you could have cut the tension with a knife". Then DX made their entrance and both Johns siblings were amazed at the sheer obnoxiousness of these three individuals. "Undertaker"? The auburn haired colossus grunted not taking his eyes off of the three delinquents as energetically chopped at their' crotches. "Any chance the sound crew would spare three microphones so I could shove them down those bozos throats, I'm sure everyone would thank us"?

Dark humor filtered through their' link informing her that he was vastly tempted by the idea, "no". "Damn", Abeebah sulked under her mask. Her brother, JR, and King agreed. Her brother silently, JR and King vocally. From across the ring Chyna glared at Abeebah and was even more infuriated at being ignored. Triple H was more concerned with the Phenom whom was boring holes in his head with the sheer weight of his stare. He looked to where Shawn stood outside the ring only to see the Heart Break Kid had problems of his own. Guerra was staring at the short blond with a very eerie smile on his face.

'Did that kid just growl', Incredulous the cerebral assassin swung his gaze back to the Undertaker. This evil he at least had some idea what to expect. "Hey Chyna why don't you go first"? Chyna glanced over her employer and sometimes friend. She knew an order when she heard one yet this was one of the few times she didn't mind. When Chyna nodded Triple H stepped out on to the apron and watched Undertaker do the same. Seeing this Morte moved forward to grapple with the taller woman as the referee signaled for the bell to ring.

Chyna easily pushed her back and smiled viciously as the youngster already gave under her brute strength. And then yelped when she was pulled down and ceremoniously launched up and over Morte via boots firmly planted in her gut. She didn't even have time to blink before Morte was on her feet and kicking her head. Chyna tried to catch one of Morte's feet only to cry out when she was kicked in the nose for her trouble. Undertaker watched on silently impressed by the way his tag partner handled herself.

She didn't give DX's bodyguard a chance to recover once she was down and targeted on an easily damageable area. The referee made Morte back off and Undertaker was surprised when he didn't feel Morte get annoyed with the little man instead she backed off and waited for Chyna to rise. The former strong woman did so but she wobbled precariously as she held a hand to her nose. Chyna glared with watery eyes at Morte who was being blocked by the referee. Undertaker raised an eyebrow when he felt waves of disappointment come off of Abeebah like a spring mist.

Then he chuckled when he saw her eyes trained on the obviously sore nose of Chyna. She was disappointed because she didn't break it. He glanced toward Guerra who wasn't watching the match and instead had his eyes trained Shawn Michaels with a look that Undertaker could only ever remember seeing on Psycho Sid. And the usually charismatic HBK was surprisingly visibly intimidated by the look, drawing his attention away from the match where Triple H was yelling out encouragement to Chyna.

At hearing JR yell, "Oh my God", Undertaker whipped his gaze back to inside the ring just in time to see Chyna tackle Morte to the mat and proceeded to punch away. Abeebah blocked as best she could with the little room she had and barely held back a hiss of pain when Chyna pulled her hair. A few more strikes to her throat and Abeebah finally saw an opening when Chyna stopped to gloat, "not so tough now huh roo-", "Ungh". Morte solidly punched her in the nose again forcing Chyna to roll off of her.

Morte's eyes were seething as she rose to her feet. 'What was this bitch's problem'? Chyna stared back at her not daring to wipe her now bleeding nose. She needed a breather so Chyna made a B line to her partner not even allowing him a chance to protest as she tagged him in. Morte turned to tag in Undertaker only to be grabbed from behind by Triple H. "What do- what the hell does Triple H think he's doing", JR sounded livid on her behalf. Wrapping her arms firmly around the game's throat Morte Judo flipped him over her shoulder and didn't let go.

Instead Morte turned it into a sleeper hold to which had Triple H powering out of it just moments later. Morte stumbled away from him, ducking under hits as she went. The crowd was chanting for her to tag in Undertaker. However Triple H was keeping her moving and well enough away from the dead man's corner. Undertaker paced the apron staring in silent fury at the way the so called tough guy tried to take out the rookie. Considering the height and weight difference Morte was doing well and getting shots in whenever the opportunity arose. However Undertaker knew she couldn't keep this up. How could the referee allow this, this was a mixed tag match.

Abeebah breathed in deep through her nose she was in a worse way and needed to tag and do so soon. She was getting tired and the combined festering rage of Undertaker and herself wasn't helping. Almost automatically a plan formed in her mind and Abeebah winced. It was desperate, it was stupid, 'it could work'. Abeebah deliberately slowed down as Triple H came at her with a punch to the gut. Air forced its way out of her lungs with an explosive gasp but Abeebah compelled her knees not to fall out from under her.

Triple H smirked, he wouldn't have to face the deadman after all. "SMACK", open palms collided with his ears simultaneously with a head butt from hell dropping him like a rock. Morte wasted little time and all but ran across the ring, tagged in an eager Undertaker. Triple H didn't know what hit him. The Phenom came at him with a clothesline, turning the game inside out with the force of the blow. He wasn't even down for two seconds before he was up and being whipped into a corner followed by furious blows raining down upon him.

Knocked silly Triple H collapsed and Undertaker rewarded him with a boot to the face. However the near seven footer was forced back by the referee. He growled ominously at the man making him scuttle away in fear and Undertaker pulled Triple H back up by the throat. Chyna who had been busy nursing a bloody nose finally took notice of her employer's predicament and attempted to get in the ring only to lose equilibrium and get hung up on the second rope. Abeebah watched all this from her place on the apron and shook with suppressed laughter when she caught sight of her brother discreetly handling HBK outside the ring via a sneak attack from behind when he tried to help out his running buddy.

And she decided that seeing the bastard Triple H getting chokeslamed was worth her sore ribs. Undertaker went for the pin and easily picked up the three count. The crowd was cheering, she had finally noticed and some were even chanting her ring name. They had won and as Undertaker's theme music pounded throughout the arena Abeebah suddenly couldn't see herself doing anything else with her life. This job wasn't just another means to an end, it meant so much more and glancing between her brother, Undertaker, and the carnage laid before them she realized only time would tell exactly what.


	3. Sparks will fly

A/N: Hey my loyal reader's and reviewers this is the next chappie and my Christmas gift to you. This chappie is a grand total of 21 pages long. The longest chappie I've ever written for a fanfiction. Enjoy- Rei

* * *

A hulking man sat on a bed mismatched eyes transfixed on the screen as he watched the mixed tag match unfolding like a well written drama. He had been surprised as everyone else when McMahon had announced the match earlier that evening and further intrigued when he set eyes on his brother's tag partner. Seething hazel orbs stared ominously at DX's bodyguard Chyna with evil intentions. Yet for some reason the silent spectator couldn't help but think that the one called Morte was amused even if her face was hidden by the obviously lovingly crafted mask.

"What cha' watch'n son"? He glanced through the fall of his chestnut mane at the overly obese man that was Paul Bearer. Kane, despite popular belief was not stupid. In fact in some ways Kane was just as cunning as his brother though his education was lacking due being practically raised in an insane asylum and his hatred burning eternally through his very soul. He knew full well the portly foul tempered and manipulative bastard wasn't his father.

There was no way he could be even if his mother did have an affair because Kane was the almost exact spitting image of Derek, his mother's husband. Yet the big red machine allowed the fat man to believe what he want as it suited his purpose of putting Undertaker through as much pain as possible. Placing the electrolarynx to his throat, Kane finally spoke with a bowed head, "Mark". Paul briefly glanced toward the cheap TV screen. Then looking into Kane's eyes he smiled. "Good, the more you study him the less he'll be prepared". Kane once again didn't bother to correct his assumption and took the electrolarynx from his throat.

Turning back to watch the match Kane watched as Morte decked Chyna solidly in the nose, making the older woman have to roll off her and get a tag. The big red machine was disgusted when Triple H prevented Morte from tagging in the Undertaker and instead contented himself to attacking her relentlessly. He was impressed when Morte didn't fall easily under the obviously bigger and stronger man. She kept well out of the Game's reach and hit him whenever she saw an opening but was still wasn't able take him down.

Kane easily recognized why, he could see the minuscule telltale hesitations of someone who was afraid of doing life-threatening damage. Someone, who was very new to the concept of holding back. Intrigued he watched as Morte finally came to some conclusion and scarified her ribs in order to get a proper shot off without killing her opponent. The maneuver Morte preformed was a strange one but Kane couldn't fault it's effectiveness as it stunned Triple H long enough to scramble for a tag.

He pretended to examine his brother's moves closely as he still felt Bearer's eyes on him. In truth Kane turned his attention inward, where he could sense Undertaker's irritation flow through the link almost dousing his own rage with its cool touch. Kane had to forcibly stifle his sigh of relief at feeling the cold of his brother's heart soothing the heat of his. After years of endless rage and loneliness Mark's mind presence was a cool balm on his white hot nerves. When they had stood eye to eye enemies instead of brothers the link that both had thought long dead flared back to life. It felt like coming home.

Then he thought about waking up in a hospital bed with his flesh feeling like it had been peeled off with a cheese grater. He couldn't sense Mark and panicked forcing the doctors to tie him down to the bed. And then Bearer came and told him his parents were dead and that Mark was the cause of his suffering. He gave a low bitter laugh; he had denied it at first thinking the fat fuck was a lying sack of horse shit.

The bastard had just smiled and went on to inform him he was in his care now. Another explosion of rage nearly made Kane swoon as he remembered every detail of his captivity under the fat man's care. After being released from the hospital Glen spent his first month under Bearer's care in a basement. He remembered being unable to move from the spot the sick bastard had thrown him down the stairs. "You're training will begin tomorrow", he had said.

The ten year old boy couldn't have ever imagined the horrors both physically and mentally he would be put through before the month was up. Paul had aimed to break him and mold a true monster from the shattered pieces. And as what little innocence was beaten and taunted out of him, Glen began to feel true hatred toward his brother. And each day he began to hate his tormentor a little bit less and hate his absentee brother and parents a little bit more. Paul enforced this notion continuously throughout his 'sessions' and reinforced the idea that he was Kane's only option.

"Who else will help a scarred retarded freak like you"? Then he was shipped off to be committed and left there. Seven years of imprisonment with nothing but orderlies and an eight by five cell as company did nothing to hinder his growth into a seven foot monster. Kane had tried once to communicate, tried to claw his way out of the situation he had been dumped into only to be placed into solitary confinement for his trouble. Kane began to believe Bearer no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise.

And like magic the fat fuck showed up and had him released in his care once more. And before he knew it Kane was being ensnared further into the morbid mind games of his 'father' when Bearer gave him a present for his eighteenth birthday. He ran a gloved hand over the thick leather of his mask that he wore even now in the privacy of a hotel room. His first mask in a collection of three identical others. They were all leashes, meant to further demean him and remind him to whom he belonged, Kane knew. Even tormented and starved for human contact as he was Kane never forgot who his tormenter was.

But the leash was necessary, if he was to live without hearing the screams of 'normal' people. Kane remembered with a grim smile how he had escaped the very night he received his first mask. Vengeance had taken the back seat in his mind and instead he thought of getting away from Paul. Fearing capture he kept on the move and stole food and money along the way. It was a week after his flight from his portly benefactor that Kane met a young woman by the name of Katie Vick. Katie hadn't been afraid of him even though he was three times her size.

Instead of turning the big man away she helped him and gave him a glimpse of what it meant to be truly free. And for those few months he ceased to be Kane the vengeful beast the Paul Bearer had bred into being. He was simply Glen Jacobs, a cousin Katie had taken in. She taught him how to read and write beyond an elementary school level and how to drive, helping him to get his license under his assumed identity. When he 'asked' her how she was able to do it without raising red flags with authorities Katie just winked and told him he wasn't the only stray in the world.

However this freedom could not last as one night Katie had taken him out to a club and she became drunk. Kane offered to drive her home and without thought Katie had accepted. There was an accident resulting in Katie's death and Kane being found out and being returned to Paul Bearer's care. Glen died with Katie and once more Kane took his place because in Bearer's home there was no room for a weak, thinking, feeling, human being like Glen.

So Kane put that part of himself to rest for good and swore it would never see the light of day again. However he also promised himself he would be free again one way or another. And after he dealt with his brother Kane would make sure the weighty pig paid for every blow physical or otherwise. But for now he would bide his time and do what he did best and play dumb. He could only hope Katie's soul would forgive him for the things he was going to do.

* * *

Abeebah and Brandon returned backstage only to see their' younger siblings there waiting for them. Both of them Abeebah noted amusingly had put upon expressions on their' faces. "So, no problems", she asked. Delia glared, "smartass". The dark skinned brawler lifted her mask so that her sister could see her smile not even bothering to take notice of the people that were around them. "Death smiles at us all". Evan snorted, "yeah but when are we going to be able to live up to our names", the 'it's not fair' was left unsaid. Brandon shrugged his broad shoulders.

"Which ever one of us debut's next I guess you'll valet for them-". "And no you will not fight amongst yourselves which", Abeebah interrupted, "I want the bloodshed to a minimum and if you two go at it we're gonna have problems". Their' younger siblings gave her twin scowls but didn't contest the decision. Suddenly Evan got a pensive look on his face, "where's DX". "Still at the ring licking their' wounds", Brandon huffed in amusement. "Let's go", Abeebah said rotating her neck in a futile attempt to get rid of the quickly forming kinks.

Only to be stopped by a very jovial Vince with an entourage following him. Silently the Johns siblings cursed. "Ah there is my new diva". Delia entertained the thought of stepping in front of her sister baring the millionaire's path but Brandon stopped her with a look. This was a game Abeebah needed to play and they needed the McMahon patriarch on their' side if they were going to make it in this business. Not missing a beat Abeebah stepped forward with silently deadly grace and her usual Mona Lisa smile. "I hope you enjoyed the show Mr. McMahon".

His smile was smug, "Indeed, you put on one hell of a show". A suavely dressed man slightly to Vince's left cleared his throat. Vince sent a slightly amused look toward the dark haired man. "Ah yes, where are my manners? Morte this is Hereto Juan, Mr. Juan may I introduce the newest diva in the WWF Morte". "Hola Sra. Morte it's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance", the obviously Hispanic man held out his hand and reluctantly Abeebah gave it to him. As soon as he kissed her knuckles she politely retracted her hand from his grip.

"No el placer es el mío Sr. Juan, what brings you to the WWF"? Vince was quick to answer for him, "Mr. Juan is a friend doing some free lance advertising for me I was showing him around". "I must admit I was hesitant but-", he ran his eyes up and down Abeebah's stout form; "with such a beautifully fascinating specimen I think the idea has grown on me". "Would you be interested in modeling for me"? Abeebah could have sworn she heard Evan gag and if he did she wouldn't blame him.

She was immune to all variations of Latin charm and the obvious examination made her skin crawl. But she swallowed back her disgust, "I would be honored". This time Evan really did gag loud enough for her to hear but was ignored. The photographer gave her a thousand watt smile, "It is I who am honored Sra.", and his voice became thick with his Spanish accent. Her smile almost slipped but Abeebah managed to keep her expression schooled, "until then", she glanced toward Vince who was looking particularly pleased with himself, "good evening gentlemen".

Abeebah moved passed Vince and his guest fluently dodging anymore interactions with Hereto whom seemed to taken a liking to her. Her siblings followed her a few paces behind, giving her space to breath but staying close enough to watch her back. Abeebah strode toward their' dressing room, her mysterious smile gone in favor of a more natural neutral expression. The emotional roller coaster ride the night presented had eased but wasn't far from Abeebah's mind.

Undertaker's cold presence still lurked in her heart and it seemed no amount of distance changed it. And it was fast becoming reassuring just as much as it was disturbing. The constant cold soothing the sharpness of her own negative emotions, she had never been able to feel anything more than a prickle of awareness with her siblings. But this, this was so much more and though she would never admit it out loud it frightened Abeebah. And the soreness of her limbs from the match and headache swiftly rising in her temples weren't helping. Behind her Delia and Brandon stared worriedly at the stiff set of their' sister's shoulders.

Delia glanced over at Evan, her dark eyes meeting his hazel gaze. 'Say something', she mouthed to him. Evan furrowed his fine eyebrows in frustration, 'what can I say', he mouthed back. Delia shrugged her narrow shoulders. And flicking the dark mass of her hair over her shoulder, the caramel skinned beauty wordlessly followed her elder sister's stalking form into the dressing room, Evan Brandon doing the same. Abeebah immediately went to get her gym bag and went into the bathroom to change back into her street clothes without so much as a backwards glance. It was clear she was in one of her moods. "I ain't staying with her", Evan stated when his elder siblings glanced his way.

Delia scowled, "we didn't even say anything"."You didn't have to and the answer is still no, no way, not a chance in hell". Brandon smirked at his petite sibling, "well we can't just leave her to her own devices, we might not care what happens to the poor soul that provokes her but the cops might". "And we're still supposed to avoid trouble", Delia raised an eyebrow, "aren't we"? Delia and Brandon closed in on their younger sibling looming over him but the littlest Johns was far from intimidated. "The fuck I'm gonna be the one that has to stop her, one of ya'll do it". His sister's scowl deepened, "what's the matter Lue scared"? Evan didn't even hesitate, "petrified". "Chicken, shit", Delia taunted.

Brandon placed his hand on her shoulder silently telling her to back off before they both went too far. The truth was none of them were immune to Abeebah's chilly demur when she was in one of her 'moods'. And someone always, always managed to piss her off enough to lose her usual ambivalence toward killing. Brandon shuttered he didn't even want to think how close she came to losing it when Undertaker had come to their' warm up. "I'll do it", he offered finally. Delia and Evan didn't feel the need to ask him if he was sure. "So", Evan crossed his arms on his chest and glanced toward his dark eyed sister, "what are we going to do"?

"Pizza", Delia replied simply as a smile broke out on her face. Brandon and Evan laughed at her. "What", mock offended Delia glared playfully at her brothers. "The second coming of Christ could be occurring and you'd still want pizza", replied Evan. Mirth saturated his words. Pompously she squared her shoulders and stuck her nose in the air. "Of course, pizza shall deliver us unto crispy crust heaven where mozzarella cheese flows like wine and Saturday night never ends". Brandon shook his head at the reverent picture Delia made with her hands clasped together eyes wide with wonder, and slightly gaping mouth. They're grandmother would have rolled in her grave if she could hear Delia now.

However their' humorous conversation stopped when Abeebah reentered the room dressed in her street clothes, gym bag in hand. She glanced at them, "I'm going to the hotel". "Wait Abeebah, let me come with you". Brandon quickly stepped in his sister's path but didn't touch her. Had she been herself Abeebah would have arched her dark brows and smile while mockingly asking if he was going to wear that outfit to the hotel. However she wasn't in the mood and merely pointedly looked at his ring attire before going to sit on one of the benches and sitting down. Brandon didn't need a second hint and went to the bathroom to change. "You two staying here"?

Delia shook her head, "we're going to get some pizza". Abeebah didn't say anything. The younger woman glanced toward Evan and he shrugged, there wasn't anything they could really do. Abeebah obviously didn't want to be bothered and he wasn't about to try and break her out of her funk if she wasn't ready. Not for the first time he mentally cursed Vince McMahon. Yet for some reason he couldn't bring himself to be mad at the Undertaker even though the Phenom contributed to the problem his eldest sibling was obviously struggling with.

The deadman was probably just as much trouble dealing as Abeebah. And that lead to a whole new set of questions that needed to be answered. Abeebah was the only one of the Johns children to have inherited their' mother's ability to sense presences and only the presences of those related to her. And she only inherited them because their' parents tinkering with things they shouldn't have. Things that led to their' untimely demise and left them picking up the pieces.

For the longest time Evan could remember hating his parents and hating them even more once they were gone. Delia shared his hatred and when it came time to lay their' mother and father to rest they both contemplated the idea of dancing on their graves. The idea was swiftly shot down when Abeebah caught them. Her Mona Lisa smile never wavered as she told them on no certain terms that out of the four of them she had the most right to hate them but hatred was a waste of energy that she was not going to spend on a couple of corpses.

Now Evan wondered if Abeebah hated them, because he found himself hating their' parents all over again Abeebah's attitude be damned. He ran his hand over his shaved scalp in frustration before grabbing Delia with one hand and their' gym bags in the other and pulled her toward the door. "See ya later Beba", he said dragging his dark eyed sister out the door and leaving Abeebah alone to wait for Brandon. Delia didn't protest, knowing that their' elder siblings frosty disposition was fast becoming too much for him to suffer in silence. Abeebah barely noticed them leave. She was more focused on the dank arctic presence inside of her own mind.

Emotions she knew weren't her own floated across her skin like a silken caress. Curiosity and dark rage mixed together and wrapped around her lungs in its freezing grip until it was impossible to tell which belong to whom. Abeebah forced her breathing to remain steady as the need to get these feelings 'out' swelled to a whole new level. 'Breathe', she commanded herself, 'you are not going to lose it'. But she was quickly losing grasp on her control. "Beebs"? Ripping her attention back to the outside world Abeebah finally noticed Brandon whom had come out of the bathroom dressed in his street clothes.

His green/gold gaze watched her carefully, as she sat stone still and reorienting herself. "Come on". She stood her feet and grabbed her gym bag not even bothering to see Brandon follow her out. The light skinned Philadelphian sighed, 'It's gonna be a long night'. The rest of the night passed on like blur, one problem blending to another as Brandon and Abeebah left the arena to head to the hotel the McMahon's had all but bought out for the wrestlers. First getting a taxi became more than a little chore, then came late night New York traffic, getting their' key's, and drunken wrestlers going in and out the hotel.

Brandon had miraculously prevented a grand total of four homicides in one encounter. And by the time they got to their' room Abeebah wasn't the only one ready to snap. Brandon immediately dropped his bag by the door and made a B line of the bed furthest from the door. He threw himself down upon it with every intention of falling asleep just like that. And he was eternally grateful when his sister made no move to stop him.

Unlike Brandon, Abeebah didn't drop her bag on the floor and instead slid it under the bed closest to the door. Standing she surveyed the entire room and noticed the open closet where their' other things were placed. There was a note from the PR pinned on her suitcase, saying that she was having a photo shoot/ interview the very next day and the room number her two youngest siblings were assigned.

Grateful though she was Abeebah still frowned at the thought of at the thought of someone moving her stuff without her knowledge. Abeebah sighed knowing it was now safe to do so, hearing Brandon's soft snores. He brother had the right idea; it was too late in the evening to be dealing with this emotional shit. So, Abeebah dropped unto the bed and let feeling of the soft comforter lull her to sleep.

* * *

_Dream_

_It was cold, colder than Abeebah could ever remember it ever being and darker than she ever prayed it would never be. She opened her eyes to the baron blackness around her and flinched when she saw him. Standing tall and wrapped in living shadows and flames that seemed not to burn him, Undertaker looked at her with furious confusion. He wasn't the same, she noted. _

_His skin wasn't as pale and his hair was such a fiery red that it was easy to see against the black of his robe. "What are you doing here"? The waves of barely leashed rage nearly knocked her flat. Abeebah snarled back her own confusion lending a new coat of frost to her already stalactite sharp fury. "In order to figure that out asshole first you have to tell me where 'here' is". Disbelief bounced off of her like pelting rain drops as the giant glared at her. _

_The dark skinned woman glared right back, "I don't give a damn whether you believe me or not but what I do care about is getting out of this dream, vision, whatever it is". Looking at her strangely Undertaker's hostile emotions seemed to retreat but the ominous anger still lingered in the air. "You honestly don't know"? Abeebah's bottom lip curled into a sneer, "you honestly think I'd be here if I did?"You wouldn't be the first to try and control me in such a way", he smiled bitterly, "fools always want power they can not have"._

_She gave him a truly amused smile of her own. "First off I let that 'fool' comment go because you don't know me and two you could have all the power in the world and I wouldn't give a less of a damn". Again utter honesty colored her words with distain at the very thought radiating off her entire being. The Phenom tilted his head, finally believing that she was telling the complete truth. "This is my mind". Taking a good look around Abeebah couldn't help a grimace, "no offense but this is depressing and there still is the question of how I got here and how the fuck am I going to get out". Amusement played upon her with a gentle caress, "None taken, and I have no idea how ya got here my mind is shielded from intruders"._

_Abeebah raised an incredulous eyebrow. "You get people in here often", she asked half seriously. He glared, "I get enough". Unperturbed Abeebah stared back boldly, "which means by your own logic either your defenses are faulty", Undertaker snorted, "or I'm not considered an intruder". The fiery haired man crossed his arms over his massive chest not at all convinced. Abeebah didn't particularly want to believe it either but she didn't hear the deadman coming up with any explanations. _

_Denial seemed like a good idea for all but two seconds before Abeebah's common sense kicked in telling her just pretending won't make the problem go away. They were both silent, staring daggers at each other until finally Undertaker grunted his agreement to her theory. It made disturbingly a lot of sense because of the connection that was between them; Kane had done much the same thing when they were children when he fell asleep. However this woman was very different from his brother, Kane was raw unadulterated all consuming passion. _

_Even now Undertaker could feel the heat of his brother's fire intertwining with the darkness. From what he felt from Morte she was not as intense, her feelings always focused on one target like a sharply honed blade and was just as cold and unforgiving as steel. Undertaker seriously doubted that it had anything to do with being related in some unseen obscure way seeing as his and Kane's parents couldn't feel them. Impatience penetrated the red haired man's silent thoughtfulness and he turned his attention back to his fellow dreamer. _

_Morte was utterly still, her eyes trained on him with a watchfulness of a predator. However Undertaker knew she was becoming frustrated as he himself was. "Well any ideas"? The Phenom shrugged his massive shoulders and sank to the ground in a graceless sprawl, "my brother did this often enough", he informed her as pain radiated off of him. "We always waited it out". She pursed her lips but said nothing and for that Undertaker was thankful. Morte unceremoniously dropped to sit Indian style before him her eyes closed. "What are you doing"? _

_Mild irritation scored his flesh. "Sleeping". Surprised Mirth bubbled to the surface, but Undertaker said not a word knowing not to antagonize Morte anymore than he had already done. They sat like this silently intermingling emotions as they tried to ignore each other. However as the minutes seemed to crawl by Abeebah could take it no longer. She opened her eyes, "how can you stand this"? "Practice", he informed her wryly. Running her hand through the thick mass of her hair Abeebah looked down and finally took notice of the way she was dressed. Indignant the dark wrestler stared down at the textured white satin hugging her bodice and long white gauzy skirt whispering against her bare feet. "Da hell"? _

_Undertaker's amusement again flooded around them, "I never took you for the type to wear white Morte". "And I never pegged you for a red head", she quipped right back. The Phenom brought a long lock of hair to eye level and sighed. "I never could lie to myself properly". Abeebah snorted, "so is there anything to do around here or am I going to become the world's first deadwoman". Not for the first time Undertaker was amused and a little disturbed, only __Kane had ever made him laugh and that was when they were still children. Suddenly he got an idea. "Lets play a game"._

_Abeebah never heard such an innocent question sound so menacing, "What"? "Getting to know you", he said trying to make it not sound like something a kindergarten teacher would come up with. And judging by her toothy grin Morte was giving him he had not succeeded. "Ok but lets get some ground rules out the way", she snorted, "and for the record that sounded so wrong on so many levels". Undertaker didn't even bother glaring at her. "Rule one either of us can choose not to answer if it gets too personal". The Phenom agreed easily enough._

_Morte waved her finger and clucked her tongue, "and no outburst". "Are you implying I have no self control"? She rolled her eyes not even the least bit intimidated by the base southern drawl. Being able to sense the Phenom's mood did wonders for her confidence. "I'm not implying anything, now come on big boy lets get it going". Undertaker twitched but didn't retaliate. "What's your real name"? "Abeebah, yours"? "Mark", the name felt strange to say as if it were so foreign to him even if were his. Abeebah could scarcely figure out the jumble of emotions projecting off of him. So she ignored it, "Nice to meet cha' Mark". _

_He cast her a strange look, "where are you from"? "Southwest Philly, Family", Evan had only mentioned briefly that Undertaker had a very violent psychotic little brother named Kane. "Both parents dead, little brother hates me". Again she was bombarded by pain, and again Abeebah shrugged it off. "My parents bit the dust too and all my siblings are accounted for". They were both silent for a moment until Undertaker dined to meet Morte's hazel gaze once more, "how'd you meet Vince"? "He just happened to be passing through when he saw me drop a couple of guys", Abeebah shrugged, "I guess he was impressed". Undertaker had the presence of mind not to question her on the subject any further. _

_"Why does Chyna have it in for you"? Abeebah shrugged, "hell if I know, the bitch has an attitude problem a mile wide". He was surprised when he didn't feel any negative emotions slither its way out of the younger wrestler. Instead she maintained a patient nonchalant demur that had him impressed the first time he laid eyes on her. "What about you", she asked, "What's ya problem with DX"? Mild irritation pinched Abeebah's skin, "they interfered in my business". "And I guessing there ain't no love lost between you and the boss huh"? _

_This time dark whispering rage slithered its way up Abeebah's spine, it incessant taunts nearly driving her to madness before Mark could control it."I'll take that as a no", she said heavily as he finally got it under control. Undertaker breathed deeply, "You're taking this situation better than most would". Abeebah stared him in the eye, her Mona Lisa smile firmly in place. "I'm not most people", was all she said as the world around them seemed to fade into darkness. _

_End Dream

* * *

_

Abeebah abruptly woke up to the sound of the shower turning on in the bathroom and Brandon no longer snoring away in his bed. Tiredly she ran a hand through the thick fall of her hair and glanced over at the clock on the night stand. "Damn, there are not enough drugs in the world that can make this right", she whispered to herself, trying desperately to find the humor in her predicament. Five o'clock flashed mockingly in red, with PM at the end. It felt like she hadn't slept for a week and in an hour she would be going back to work. For a juvenile moment Abeebah contemplated ranting and raving like a child only to dismiss it just as quickly.

She looked up just in time to see her brother enter the room dressed in a pair of loose fitting jeans and long sleeved tee-shirt. "Finally awake"? Mutely Abeebah nodded and threw back her covers. Sliding out the bed she stalked over to her suite case and retrieved a fresh set of clothes. Brandon sighed in frustration; it looked like she was still in one of her moods. He watched go to the bathroom and forcefully shut the door and he silently wondered what could have possibly set off his sister this time. "Ring"!!! The obnoxiously loud telephone interrupted his train of thought and he answered as politely as he could muster. "Hello"? "Is this Mr. Guerra"? "What is it", Brandon didn't feel like being nice and was fast loosing his patience.

"Yes, well this is Terry Weinberg of the scheduling committee you've been booked to in a match against Scorpio on Sunday night Heat". The green eyed wrestler furrowed his brow Evan hadn't ever made mention of wrestler called Scorpio. "Thanks for tell me good afternoon", and without another word he hung up. Despite being able to beat on Shawn Michaels the night before Brandon was nervous. Even as he ignored what went on inside the ring during Abeebah's match was well aware what was going on outside the ring. Brandon had never been the focus of so many people's attention in his entire life. And he knew that the attention would only grow once he entered the ring himself.

He heard the shower turn on and cursed silently at Abeebah's steadfast silence when dealing with the overwhelming. They were all dealing with this situation, even her 'little' problem he just wished she'd trust them with that not so normal part of herself. Shaking his head Brandon left the room to go find Evan. He needed information on the wrestler he was scheduled to fight tonight. In the shower Abeebah barely heard her brother leave as she let the hot water pour down on her tense shoulders.

She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the cool tile, trying to ignore just how tired she was. That dream was real, Abeebah was convinced but she needed confirmation. She would find the Undertaker 'no Mark' and get it. 'And hopefully he won't try to tear my head off', Abeebah thought with grim humor. Suddenly she was hit with a feeling of reassurance, of absolute certainty, and a hint of dark humor answering her own. Abeebah sighed, "That's just creepy". Again like a pulse the amusement returned before ebbing away into the back of her mind.

The feelings were still there but far enough away from her own so she could ignore it. Obviously the deadman was paying attention to her mood. 'But for how long', she thought with a little irritation, 'I don't like this'. Another thrumming pulse of amusement laced with agitation answered her. He didn't like the lack of privacy anymore than she did. Abeebah sighed and forced herself to calm down. Undertaker wasn't able to read her mind, just her emotions and getting angry wasn't going to help the situation any. Brandon walked down the hall and glanced around at the identical cheap hotel doors each labeled with numbers and glanced down at the note he had found earlier.

Obviously someone had the presence of mind to tell Abeebah where her younger siblings were going to be rooming. Brandon hadn't seen the terror duo all day and was keen on seeing them before they had to go back to the arena. Suddenly he slammed into someone and was sent tumbling to the ground. Cursing Brandon rubbed his he looked up and up and up to meet the mismatched gaze of a very tall, very robust man. It didn't take Brandon a long time to figure out who knocked him on his ass.

Even dressed in a pair of sweats and long sleeved shirt with his hair falling in a river of curls in his face, Brandon recognized the infamous mask his little brother had described in detail. He had somehow run into the big red machine Mr. Crispy himself, Kane. Brandon held back the urge to whimper, 'what in the hell have I done to deserve this'? From what he could remember Evan told them Kane at best was violent and at worst just as bad as Delia when she was in the mood to cause destruction and utter mayhem. Cautiously Brandon got to his feet and schooled his face into an apologetic smile.

"Sorry man, I wasn't pay'n attention there". The giant of a man tilted his head in the most childlike expression Brandon had seen on anyone. The fact that an expressionless mask covered his presumably mangled visage only served to make the moment even more surreal. "Brandon"!!! Looking around the ridiculously taller man the light skinned wrestler spotted Delia who was looking on worriedly. Sending a genuine smile the big man's way Brandon ducked past him and grabbed his sister with another hasty apology. Kane stared after them before shrugging his massive shoulders and going about his merry way.

Brandon dragged Delia around the corner and only let go when he was sure that there wasn't anyone to over hear they're conversation. His younger sister looked mildly shocked. "Was that-"? "Yeah", "And you-", "Nearly got myself killed, yeah". Delia shook her head disbelievingly, "come on I need something to eat before that can even to process in my head". Brandon nodded and followed her to the room which was situated at the very end of the hall. Inside it was the same set up as his and Abeebah's room with two beds side by side a small closet, bathroom next to the door, and a coffee table by the window.

On the coffee table were three pizza boxes and some soda and Brandon followed his sister to the table and grabbed a slice of pizza. Delia grabbed another piece and wolfed it down with gusto. Brandon passed her a napkin and she wiped her mouth. Dropping the spent piece of paper on the table Delia spoke, "so how's our esteemed sibling". "Still in one of her moods", he grouched with a visible grimace. His younger sister sent him an amused look and mock pated his bulky shoulder sympathetically. "Poor baby, not only did you nearly get killed by an overgrown Donkey Kong you had to deal with Ms. Frigid the mass murderer all night".

"And to top it off I have my first match Sunday", Brandon mock whined right back. Delia was visibly startled, "me two". Brandon furrowed his brow. "Whose you're opponent"? "Tori, you"? "Scorpio". Delia looked as confused as Brandon felt. "Ok I guess you were looking for Evan then". He nodded and plopped down on the bed closest to the coffee table. "So where'd our vertically challenged little brother go", he asked. Delia shrugged her narrow shoulders and sat next to him. "Apparently there's a pool here somewhere". "Not going to brave the outside world with big brother", Brandon teased. Delia snorted, "With the way our luck has been going so far, hell no". He grinned sardonically.

"It has been a wild ride hasn't it"? Delia grinned, "And its just getting started, imagine all the anarchy that's just waiting out there". Brandon tapped her on the nose, "chill out little one, we ain't here to look for trouble and it's bad enough as is". She swatted his hand away, "I'm easily bored and besides we all agreed to this being far from normal why can't ya let ya little sister play for awhile"? "Cause you're kinda play always leaves Abeebah cleaning up the mess", he informed her wryly. His younger sibling mock pouted and ran a hand through the thick fall of her hair. "But Beebs always gets to have all the fun". Brandon rolled his eyes at Delia's whining, she usually didn't throw such tantrums.

She always understood violence was a means to an end for their' sister, not a pleasure to be had. 'Situations' always seem to happen to her no matter what Abeebah does and Delia was the one who would usually laugh it off or 'play' with it. But it seemed that the stress was even getting to Delia who thrived on 'making things more interesting'. "Please don't go there Delia Abeebah's bad enough, I don't want you going ape shit on my ass two". Delia sighed, "sorry but you must admit it is tempting".

"Not really, that's more you and Evan's thing I don't mind if it gets me what I want but the shit you two do", Brandon mock shuttered, "I'm glad Beebs has rules". Delia slapped him on the shoulder. "I'm not that bad". "No you're not", he paused, "you're worse". Delia snorted but didn't deny it. Suddenly the door opened and the siblings saw their' younger brother come in. The only things Evan had on were swim trunks and a towel. Wet and happy he glanced at Brandon and Delia who sat side by side watching him."What's up"? They glanced at each other.

"We both got matches Sunday Delia's going up against Tori and I'm fighting some guy called Scorpio". Momentarily Evan looked slightly worried. "Delia is gonna wipe the floor with Tori but I don't know about your chances Scorpio is good", he said finally. Brandon looked pensive, "how good can he be, you didn't mention him before". "I also didn't mention JJ, Al Snow, and Jazz, who by the way are all good wrestlers if a little bit less known right now than say Undertaker". Delia rolled her eyes, "then why Vince made Abeebah tag up with him I mean we're just some young punks from Philly". Evan shrugged off his towel and began to dry off. "I don't know, but whatever it is I guarantee it will come back to bite us in the ass".

Brandon rolled his shoulders agitatedly, "thanks short stuff that's real reassuring". "Would you rather I lie", Evan retorted with a raised eyebrow. Brandon snorted, "Well back to the matches why don't you think I can win mine". "Because this fight has rules, weren't you paying attention to Beebs fight? She was barely able to hold her own". Brandon looked sheepish, "I was a little busy". "And you say chaos is more me and Evan's thing, you can't say you didn't love every moment of beating the holy hell out of HBK", mocked Delia. Her older brother shrugged, "even I need a punching bag once in awhile". Evan rolled his eyes. "Where's our esteemed older sister"? "Still sulking".

Evan again looked worried, "what happened"? Brandon shrugged, "the usual shit, but we made it to the room just fine and she slept all day". He scratched his head even more frustrated at not knowing what was going on with Abeebah. It wasn't as if she would out right say what was bothering her and god help him if he got the nerve to ask when she was in one of her moods. Evan and Delia found that they had similar thoughts running through their' minds. They fell silent for a moment before Brandon cleared his throat.

"Well ain't no use crying over spilt milk, get dressed Evan, you might as well help me do some last minute training if its gonna be that bad", he said. His younger brother agreed easily enough and retrieved some fresh clothes before going to the bathroom. Delia got up and crossed her arms under her ample bosom. "You're just going to up and leave me here with her"? Brandon nodded at his sister's incredulously betrayed tone, "damn skippy". "Evan said that you can wipe the floor with Tori, I want to have more than a prayer to beat this dude". Delia pouted, "Fine but you owe me". Brandon stood and kissed her brow. "Thanks you're the best little one".

The caramel skinned wrestler scowled her dark mocha gaze filled with amusement and annoyance at the same time. "Whatever just show me where ya'll room is and pray we don't run into anybody else tonight". Grasping her hand Brandon pulled her out the room and down the hall. This time the burly youth paid attention to where he was going and was able to avoid another case of hit and run. They didn't bother to stick around long enough to see whom they nearly railroaded over. It wasn't until they were right in front of his and Abeebah's door that Brandon realized that he forgot his key. He blushed as Delia looked at him questioningly and then sheepishly knocked on the door.

Before his younger sister could further his embarrassment Abeebah answered the door. Her chocolate curls fell heavily over her face and shoulders no longer confined in braids. Dressed in a plain cotton sweater and black jeans their' older sibling looked a bit more relaxed and her features were no longer set in cool neutrality and instead they were favored with one of her always amused smile. Not wanting to ruin whatever led to his sister's good mood Brandon smiled back and elbowed Delia into doing the same.

"Hey Beebs, Evan is going to help me train, me and Delia got matches Sunday". Abeebah tilted her head inquisitively. One some level the gesture was eerily similar to what Kane had done earlier and Brandon hoped that Abeebah wasn't somehow linked to him two. 'One psychopath at a time please', he thought sarcastically. "Who you're up against"? "Scorpio". Abeebah looked increasingly confused, "never heard of him". "Hence the last minute training session". She turned to look at Delia, "what about you, you got a match two right"?

Delia's smile was feral, "Tori". Abeebah made a humming noise in the back of her throat, yet another buxom blond hired by McMahon. Abeebah went back inside and slung on her jacket then grabbed Brandon's gym bag and threw it to him. Then she grabbed the key to their' room. "I have an interview to go to", Abeebah said in explanation when her younger sister gave her a strange look. "Let's get Evan". They didn't bother refuting her as they made their' way back to Delia and Evan's room. Evan was already ready and waiting for them. Dressed in his 'horsemen gear' the youngest Johns immediately grabbed the hotel room key and headed out with his siblings.

An hour later found the Johns back at the arena and separated from each other. Brandon, Evan, and Delia were immediately off to the gym while Abeebah was sent to a mini photo shoot/interview by some PR's. Abeebah wasn't surprised but no less annoyed to see that the photographer was none other than Hereto Juan. However she was relieved to see good 'ol' JR was there to ask the questions. As soon as the dark haired man saw her he smiled toothily and made a rotating motion with his finger. Abeebah held back the urge to scowl as she obligingly twirled around, modeling what she already had on. The photographer tsked, "Now this wont do".

Hereto turned his back to speak with one of his assistants and Abeebah indulged herself in an irritated glare. "Jim Ross, Ms. Morte it's nice to meet you". The eldest Johns turned her attention to the Oklahoma cowboy who was good naturedly smiling at her. "The pleasure is mine JR", she replied genuinely. But she made no moved to shake the announcer's hand, "You'll have to understand if I'm a bit hesitant"? "Never been interviewed before", he asked. Abeebah nodded and wasn't surprised when the elderly man just shrugged it off. "You wouldn't be the first, just relax, I'll take it easy on ya".

Smiling her gratitude Abeebah glanced toward Hereto who was now looking at her like a slab of meat. "Now, now Sr. Ross the interview must wait", Hereto gesture toward his assistant, "Hilary will be helping you get ready Sra. Morte". JR looked as annoyed as Abeebah felt but made no move to argue with the man as he went to go check with the sound technician in the interviewing area. Abeebah looked at the confident looking young woman standing next to her employer and was immediately given an apologetic smile. Almost instantly liking the girl Abeebah easily followed her to a rack of clothing that was set a little ways away from the photo set and interviewing area.

"Sorry about Hereto", Hilary said as soon as they were out of earshot, "he's a bit flamboyant". It was a polite description at best but Abeebah wasn't about to add to it. She simply nodded. Hilary glanced her way. "So what do you want to wear today"? Abeebah looked around at what was on the rack and grimaced slightly, "Anything that isn't skin tight, white, and going up my posterior". The petite blond gave her a smile, "finally a woman after my own heart, well maybe not the white part I may not be able to work white but I love the color". Hilary went through the plethora of clothes on the rack until she finally compiled an outfit.

Again Hilary smiled apologetically as she gave Abeebah her selection, "sorry but no cigar on your not skin tight request". The brawler sighed, looking down at her 'clothes'. The smaller woman had picked out a pair of silver stretch pants with blue sequence sewn in a diamond patterns. The top Hilary picked out was equally as immodest, a strapless corset made of borderline see through brown fabric with similar blue sequence stitched into it. Abeebah fought back a grimace, it was better than some of the outfits she'd seen other women of the federation wear.

"Where do I change"? Hilary pointed to the privacy screen just off to the side. The new wrestler was sure if Undertaker didn't notice her mood before he did now. Abeebah was a very private person by nature and having to dress practically in front of a group of people was pushing it. "Is there a bathroom I can change in", she rephrased with gritted teeth. Hilary shook her head, "I'll stand in front of the screen if you want". Thankful once again the dark skinned brawler nodded and quickly went behind the screen to change. True to her word Hilary stood in front of the screen with her back to Abeebah. "So how long have you been wrestling", the assistant asked.

Glancing toward Hilary's silhouetted form Abeebah shrugged even though she couldn't see it, "A few weeks, but I've been fighting my entire life". "Wow you must be a natural". Again she shrugged, "I just happen to be good at beating on people", Abeebah deadpanned. Hilary glanced over her shoulder, "yeah we get plenty of those around here", she said cheekily. Abeebah snorted but didn't reply as she struggled to tighten the silken cords in the back of the corset. Finally after the fifth try, she asked for help.

Hilary was quick and polite and wisely didn't make fun of her difficulty with something as simple as pulling string tight. Done Hilary circled Abeebah assessing the outfit now clinging to her curvaceous body. Hilary smiled, "you look great". "I feel naked". The short blond shrugged her shoulders. "I did the best I could considering the clothes that Hereto picked out for you", "like I said he's a bit of a drama queen". Abeebah didn't disagree with her. Rubbing her hands together Hilary smiled widely, "Ok lets get you some boots and mask I think we should leave your hair alone".

Abeebah followed her back to the rack were the clothes were hung and noticed that there were a few pairs of shoes and at least seven mask set on a table right next to it. "Do I really have to wear a mask for this"? Once again Hilary shrugged, "apparently Mr. McMahon thought your wearing a mask was a great idea". Abeebah imagined herself strangling the presumptuous prick. It only made her feel slightly better. Sighing she looked down at the row of mask that lay before her. Immediately her eyes zeroed in on a plain silver looking mask that was bare save the painted blue shadows around the eye holes.

It was the least elaborate of the bunch but beautifully crafted, which suited Abeebah just fine. She smiled wryly as she put it on. Like any girl she liked pretty things and as bad ass as she was Abeebah indulged her inner little girl once in a while. Hilary gave her a thumbs up. "Damn girl I like your style, now shoes". Under the mask Abeebah grinned almost reluctantly at Hilary's enthusiasm. The blond energetically bobbed around the table showing her shoes she thought would best go with the outfit Abeebah had on until the brawler finally picked some sheer brown flats. Hilary took a deep breath and escorted her back to the photo shoot area where Hereto was waiting.

The Latino man smiled ear to ear when he saw her and made to once again take hold of her hand only for Abeebah to side step his attempt. Still he smiled at her, "Sra. Morte you are now a vision". Hilary held back the urge to roll her eyes and glance toward Abeebah who had been one of her easiest assignments to dress. Abeebah stood slightly behind her, her posture relaxed but her eyes twitching almost madly under the mask, "Thank you Sr. Juan". Hereto smiled at her with all of his Latin charm, but once again failed to get any reaction besides Abeebah's glacial politeness.

He either ignored the wrestler's obvious distant mood or didn't care as he directed her to where the background for the photo shoot had been set up. Not bothering to examine what was chosen Abeebah stood in front of the camera and ran a hand through her hair and away from her face. Suddenly the camera flashed and she gave an irritated sigh at Hereto whom had already begun taking photos. Abeebah wondered silently how other wrestler's put up with this sort of thing as Hereto called for her to do poses and be more 'seductive'. She didn't bother to contain the sneer that pulled at her lips and bared her teeth under the mask.

Cocking her head sideways she stared daggers at the photographer through lowered lashes with one hand on her hip and the other hanging loosely at her side. Hereto's eyes lit up like Christmas lights, "That's perfect, Ms. Morte, dangerous temptress". Abeebah's hand twitched, 'calm, he's just being melodramatic, calm, you are not going to sink to that level no matter how annoying this rectal itch is, calm'. It took a minute of repeating that mantra in her head but somehow Abeebah managed to not give into the urge to do bodily harm. And by that time the shoot was done and she went off to do her interview with JR.

The interview was mercifully short and JR took it easy on Abeebah, calming her sorely tested nerves immensely. For his part JR was impressed by the young woman before him and could see why she had managed to get along with the Phenom during their' match together. Morte was polite yet had a quiet almost chilling humor that wasn't overbearing. During the entire interview she was always respectful and always spoke with a matter of fact tone to her voice. She made no arrogant statements or bragging comments and in fact pointed out she couldn't care less if Chyna wanted to fight her again.

She fought the ninth wonder because that was the match, not some personal vendetta and would fight Chyna again if it came to that. After the interview Abeebah changed back to her normal clothes only to have Hilary hand her a bag with the clothes she wore for the shoot in it. Confused she stared at the assistant. The small blond rolled her eyes, "All the wrestles have 'out of ring clothing' for when they do things like promos, interviews, and stuff plus you're getting this free from McMahon himself". For a moment Abeebah contemplated the merits of arguing that she did need 'anything' from the leech but then decided it was better to except it.

She smiled tightly at the older woman, "thanks for everything, see ya around". Hilary nodded and Abeebah left to go watch her siblings work out. When she got there her siblings didn't even acknowledge her presence, too caught up in their' training with Evan couching his elder siblings. Abeebah didn't mind overly much and merely watched as they beat the living hell out of each other and occasionally taking pointers from their' younger sibling along the way.

It wasn't until thirty minutes later when they started to do their' cool down workouts that they finally noticed her. As usual Delia gave her sister a colorful greeting. Brandon only looked mildly annoyed while Evan looked both agitated and embarrassed by getting caught off guard. "You could have said something", he all but spat angrily before he could stop himself. Abeebah just gave him an amused smile, "but you looked like you were having such fun". Brandon snorted; she was finally back to normal. The Johns returned to the hotel shortly after and began to train every other day for the rest of the week.

Sunday came too quickly in Brandon's opinion as he got ready for his match against Scorpio which was scheduled later on that evening. All the Johns were dressed in their' ring attire while they waited for his and Delia's matches to come. Delia would be fighting after Vader versus Godfather match up. Evan would valet for Delia while Abeebah would valet for Brandon, making sure that the degenerates of DX didn't try to interfere with her younger brother's match in some backwards notion of vengeance. The light skinned wrestler stared at his reflection.

The tone of his skin was paler than normal and his muscles tense under the comfortable fall of his blue collared white shirt. He could feel the stadium shaking as the pyros went off signaling the beginning of the show. "Calm down". He glanced toward the covered visage of Abeebah who was regarding him out of the corner of her eye. Brandon held back the urge to snap. She was right and had gone through something far more trying than the match he was about to go through. "Can't help it if I'm nervous Beebs". "I know". She glanced toward where Delia was shadow boxing and Evan was watching her.

"But there's nothing you can do right now so there's no point in worrying". Brandon pouted, "what no 'you're gonna wipe the floor with his ass' speech"? "I can't guarantee that and I'm not going to lie to you", her tone was amused. Brandon smiled, "You were always the pessimistic one". "And I always will be, besides I leave being optimistic to you", Abeebah teased right back. Her brother shrugged and ran a bandaged hand over his neatly shaven scalp. "I like the phrase forward thinking a bit better". Abeebah sent an amused look his way but said nothing.

Most of the time they needed no words between them, Abeebah knew he needed subtle encouragement and Brandon was thankful in his own quite way once he received it. Sometimes many including himself wondered if they were twins somehow despite the six month age differential. "Hey", they both glanced toward their' younger sister, "want to go and check out the other guys"? Abeebah got up from her seat on the bench, "why not". She followed a bouncing Delia out the door with Evan at her side and Brandon following reluctantly behind her.

At the arena the crowd was cheering loudly over Michael Cole and JR as they made the announcement that the Undertaker would be facing HBK in a casket match at Summerslam. The victory wetted the fans appetite and they were looking forward to an all out war between Undertaker and the heart break kid. And there was still speculation about the WWF's newest clique the horsemen.

Morte had proved devastating in her own right by going toe to toe with Chyna and holding her own with Triple H yet they had only got a glimpse of Guerra who had run interference on Shawn Michaels. The crowd went nuts when JR said the rest of the horsemen would be premiering that very night. They even cheered louder when the interview he had with Morte earlier in the week played on the Titantron.

* * *

_"First let me thank you for doing this interview, as you undoubtedly know many of the __WWF and its fans are curious about you". JR was sitting on a couch opposite of Morte his eyes trained studiously on the rookie. Morte tilted her head slightly and gave a graceful shrug of her bare shoulders. "I'm content to assuage their' curiosity", she responded thoughtfully. "Well I guess I__'ll__ have to start with your victory with the Undertaker against Chyna and Triple H, it's my understanding that was your first ever match not only in the WWF but as a professional wrestler". _

_She nodded, "yes it was JR, I'm no stranger to fights but that was the first time I wrestled outside of the p__ractice matches with my brother__ and sister". The Oklahoma cowboy looked impressed. "__And what about the other horsemen"? Under the mask Abeebah raised an eyebrow, "__My brothers __Guerra and Lue__, my sister__Viluppo,__ and I are the__ horsemen".__ Su__rprised JR adjusted his glasses, "And all of you are wrestlers". "__Lue is our manager/__assistant__ because he's too young to wrestle but Guerra and Viluppo debut in their' matches Sunday"._

_"Care to share who they'll be fighting against". Hazel eyes glittered teasingly under __lowered lashes. "And spoil the surprise", her lips hidden under the mask pulled back into a feral grin, "perish the thought". Clearing his throat JR nodded, "Well back to__ your match with the Undert__aker, Chyna obviously wasn't too thrilled at having a rookie beat her, no offense". Morte shrugged again, "none taken". "__But aren't you afraid of possible retaliation by DX"? If possible __Morte looked thoughtful, with her hands interlocking in front of her masked face, "the thought had occurred, yes". _

_"But JR if they are so petty as to start something then so be it". She tilted her head slightly and leaned back, "what was in the ring was business and whatever personal shit they bring to the ring is their' problem not mine". __Stunned the elderly announcer stared slightly agape at the seemingly slightly amused young woman before her. "Not many would take the live and let live policy in the WWF", he managed to say. "It's more like a don't start no shit won't be no shit policy,__ I don't take an particular pleasure out__ of violence but I'm perfectly__ than capable of dishing more than my fair share of suffering when I'm in the mood".

* * *

_

The titantron faded to black and the crowd cheered again nearly drowning out JR and Michael Cole as they discussed the footage. "Bold words from the rookie JR, I just hope for her sake she can back them up". The Oklahoma cowboy smiled at his co-host, "Oh I have no doubt she can Michael, any girl who not only can tag with the Undertaker take out Chyna and go toe to toe with Triple H has to be pack'n some serious heat". The thin co-anchor looked pensive, "I don't doubt that JR but come on this is DX we're talking about here and I don't think the odds are in Morte's favor". "I wouldn't count out that young lady just yet Michael".

As prove his words correct the lights surrounding them suddenly dimmed and went blue as Morte's theme music played on the Titantron. They went wild as she walked out onto the ramp and she wasn't alone. Standing at Morte's left and right were two guys and one girl. Jim Ross and many of the audience recognized Guerra who had made sure that Shawn Michaels hadn't interfered in his sister's match. The other two Cole and JR assumed were Morte's other siblings Viluppo and Lue. Viluppo, they both noted moved differently than her siblings.

The best way to describe her was bouncy, as she blew kisses to the crowd and sashayed down the ramp as if it was fashion runway. Not even Lue, whom they assumed was the youngest because of his sized moved with such energy. "Whoa! They're coming our way JR". The elderly announcer rolled his eyes at the obvious statement. The four made they're way to the announcement both and a ring technician quickly came over and opened chairs for them next to JR. "Hello JR", Morte sat next to her youngest sibling and turned her head slightly to watch both announcers. "Pardon my rudeness Morte but what are you doing out here and I can only assume these are your siblings you were talking about earlier", JR asked.

The technician handed each of them a headset. Abeebah put hers on with a shrug, "Lue wanted to watch the other matches, this just happened to be the best seats in the house". JR laughed when the young boy sitting next to him scowled, trying to fruitlessly to cover his embarrassment. "And your assumption is correct these are the other horsemen, the one sitting next to you JR is Lue, and the one next to you Michael Cole is Viluppo and I believe you already know Guerra". The Oklahoma cowboy tipped his hat to each of them as Michael Cole exchanged greetings with each of the siblings.

"So who's fighting first", asked Viluppo cheerily. Nervously Cole looked down at the stats they were given for the night. "Well first up tonight is a tag team match with the Hardys going up against the insane clown posse". Only Lue didn't look blankly at the man. "Speaking of matches what about you're two tonight", JR smiled at Guerra and Viluppo. The latter grinned back in a feral manner, "there's not much to tell, but I will say this Madison Square garden better be ready for a beating". "Strong words", he turned toward Guerra not even paying attention as the Hardys started to make their' entrance, "what about you".

For a moment Brandon considered the thought of remaining silent but seeing the expectant look on Delia's face quickly shot that train of thought down. "I'm looking forward to the challenge my opponent will present", he said diplomatically. Suddenly the lights went out, "what the hell"? 'My thoughts exactly', Abeebah tensed as a haunting tune sounded throughout the stadium, Brandon's hand on her own ready to move at a moments notice. Then the pyros on the ramp went off and red light filled the entire arena of thunderously loud fans.

"Oh my god its Kane, what in the hell is Kane doing here"!!! Abeebah ignored JR's ranting, "Lue". Her younger brother's eyes were transfixed on the Goliath approaching the ring along with everyone else. "Not a fucking clue sis not a fucking clue". They all watched in stunned amazement as the big red machine proceeded to enter the ring and kick the high holy hell out of the Hardys for no apparent reason while Paul Bearer got a microphone and entered the ring while the behemoth that was Kane picked the Hardys apart.

It only took moments for the duo to be thoroughly trounced and discarded outside the ring via double choke slam. "Think they'll be able to walk after that", asked Delia staring at the fallen brothers. Guerra wasn't as amused, "let's go". Silently agreeing with him Abeebah pulled off her headset and made to get up and leave the announcers table. "WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GO'N"? Looking up Abeebah met the beady eyed glare of one Paul Bearer. Brandon was about to rise as well to stand by his sister's side but she kicked his ankle and quickly shot significant looks toward their' younger siblings, stilling him.

'How in the hell do I get myself in these situations', she thought sourly as a ring technician unceremoniously handed her a microphone. "Not to be rude but that's none of your business". Abeebah's focus narrowed in on the two being standing in the ring as the ever strident voice of Paul disgraced the mic. "NOW SEE HER-". "For the love of god please shut up", she interrupted. "Whatever your business out here is its none of my business but if I have to hear another bitch whine one more time this week, somebody's gonna get hurt and it ain't gonna be me".

"YOU DARE THREA-". "What part of shut up don't you understand", Abeebah felt the sharp bite of her own anger digging into her skin. Trying to calm down She took a deep breath and looked up in the ring only to meet the mismatched gaze of Kane. The world stilled. Neither she nor he could breath. Abeebah could feel him in an instant, scalding pain awash down her spine. And Kane in turn could he feel her all steel and frost quelling any thought of doing the fat man's bidding.

Instead he was curious, curious about this being who he knew held no ill intention toward him. He stepped forward and put a hand on Bearer's shoulder stilling his ranting. The world was moving once again but it didn't matter. Blue and green regarded near burnished gold searchingly. Kane could see past the layers of rime coating the windows to her soul. She was just as angry as he, just as confused, just as hurt, yet she was not broken. Torment held no place in her heart. 'How', his wrecked heart screamed in agony and Abeebah visibly flinched. "Beebs", no longer wearing a head set Delia kept her eyes on Paul while she tried to inconspicuously to get closer to her sister. Abeebah put the mic down, "we're leaving now".

"No argument here", Brandon stood to his feet and took off the head set he was given Evan doing the same, staring at the big red machine. Kane's gaze never wavered from Abeebah's own, 'Run if you want, I'll be waiting', his mind whispered to hers. Had Abeebah not been wearing a mask the entire world would have seen her slack jawed expression. She broke eye contact but not before sent a parting shot of her own, 'Come at me to your own peril', she thought before leaving behind the speculating crowd and announcers.

* * *

Translations

Hola Sra. Morte- Hello Ms. Morte

No el placer es el mío Sr. Juan- No the pleasure is all mine


	4. What is necessary

A/N: Buckle up your seatbelts kids its about to get interesting. I'm warning you now if you don't like a bit of a beat down this is not for you and ya might want to avert your eyes cause this isn't going to be for the faint of heart and occasional weak stomach. Send plenty of reviews.

* * *

As soon as they were out of sight and away from prying ears Brandon rounded on his older sister, "Please don't tell me he's like you too". Delia and Evan hung back guarding the hallway to make sure no one was listening while doing so themselves. Abeebah cast her gaze away from Brandon her masked visage disguising most of her disquiet but her eyes giving away the turmoil seething beneath the surface. "Fine I won't tell you". The burly brawler held back a vile stream of curses, "I think you should stay in the locker room". Lifting her eyes Abeebah glared, "fine".

Her brother barely held back the urge to flinch. Evan entered the room, Delia wasn't with him. Evan took one glance toward their' elder sibling and quickly adverted his eyes, "Delia's match is next, she went to the back". Brandon scowled, "why". "Apparently McMahon thought it was an opportune moment considering 'publicity' Kane gave the horsemen when he backed down", Evan looked as irritated as they all felt. Abeebah's fist clenched and unclenched sporadically as she fruitlessly tried to get her temper under control. It was an uphill battle but the brawler managed to calm down enough to speak without her voice quivering, "go, I don't trust this situation one bit".

Brandon nodded, "promise you won't leave". Under her mask Abeebah bared her teeth ominously as another set of emotions filtered into her mind. "I promise". The burly young man didn't believe her but wasn't about to push it any further with the mood she was in. He left with Evan right behind him. Abeebah didn't want or need either of them hovering over her right now. They made it the ramp just in time. The stagehand took one look at them with a sigh went to tell the ring announcer that they would be their' sister's valets. For a moment Delia looked confused.

"Where's Beebs", she asked. Brandon crossed his arms over his chest, "She ain't come'n out after that". Delia raised an eyebrow, "you can't honestly think she'll stay in the locker room". Silently Brandon agreed with his younger sister but he wasn't about to admit it aloud. Brandon raised an eyebrow when he heard a familiar electronic melody blare throughout the arena. Delia smiled innocently, "what"? "Point's of Authority"? She shrugged, "it fits". Strutting out to the ramp Delia was greeted by a cheering crowd and flashing lights. Her smile was a mile wide as she made her way to the ring blowing kisses and waving as she went.

Following more sedately Brandon and Evan smiled as Delia fed off the crowd's energy. "THIS MATCH IS SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL, ENTERING FIRST BEING ACCOMPANIED BY GUERRA AND LUE OF THE FOUR HORSEMEN OF THE APOCOLYPSE FROM PHILADELPHIA VILUPPO". Delia made her way onto the apron and jumping over the top rope she was cheered on even more as she spun around one more time for the cameras. Like Abeebah's match Brandon stood behind the corner his sister chose to stand while Evan went to go sit with the announcers.

"Well folks, Lue youngest of the four horsemen has just joined us again at commentary", JR smiled at him kindly and indicated the seat next to him. The pixie thin boy sat down and automatically put on the headset handed to him by a stage hand. "Glad to be here Mr. Ross", Lue put on the most sincere smile he could muster while his eyes were still trained on the ring all but ignoring Tori's entrance. "Yeah well we didn't think we'd see you guys again after Kane came out here, speaking of which where's Morte", asked Cole.

Evan had a hard time not let his smile slip, "She's just chilling out, is all", he sighed, 'how does Abeebah do this without frowning'. Back in the ring Tori and Delia were eyeing each other as the referee laid down the law, both trying to get a measure of the other before the match. Finally the he signaled for the bell to be rung. "Looks like Viluppo is going to have her work cut out for her in her debuting match, Tori though not as tough as Jacqueline is still a tough customer in the women's division of the WWF", said JR. Lue said nothing as he watched his fellow horsemen grapple with Tori, trying to get leverage over the bigger woman.

After a few pushes Viluppo was able to get a hold of the blonde's arm ringing it. Tori dropped her knees trying to relieve the pressure only for Delia to drive the point of her elbow into her shoulder. Tori screeched in pain. "This might be over quicker than expected", Evan mused lightly. Cole cast him a curious look, "A bit premature for that prediction don't you think I mean Tori isn't the toughest diva but she has a lot more ring experience than Viluppo". As if to prove his point Tori tried to roll forward to dislodge Viluppo's grip, it didn't work. Evan smiled as Delia drove her elbow further into Tori's shoulder making the diva collapse face first into the canvas.

"In ring maybe, but out ring, I doubt it, we all grew up fighting but Tori doesn't have a prayer against either of my sisters at least with Morte she'd go for the first opportunity to win but Viluppo is vicious at her best". Delia straightened and removed her elbow from Tori's shoulder. The blonde didn't even notice, too busy gasping for air. Then Evan saw Delia smile vindictively. Almost absently he said, "That is going to hurt". "What's going to hurt", both announcers asked. In answer Delia ground the heel of her boot into Tori's abused shoulder and the downed woman didn't think twice about tapping. "That", Evan said dry as the referee signaled for the bell to be rung in acknowledgement to Delia's victory.

He quickly excused himself to go join Delia who had slid out of the ring and was excitedly celebrating with an amused Brandon. They watched as she excitedly bounced up and down on the balls of her feet in circles until she suddenly stopped. "Um' guys, trouble". Following Delia's gaze up the ramp Brandon sighed, "Vote"? Chyna stood at the top of the ramp flanked by Shawn Michael's and Triple H all of them sporting black and blue bruising on their' skin. Armed with steel chairs and furious scowls the obviously injured trio was boring holes in the three siblings' foreheads'. "Fight", Delia licked her lips in anticipation for more of a challenge.

Evan was quiet, 'we back down they'll think we're afraid and come after us, we beat them they'll still come after us, aww what the hell', "fight". Brandon wasn't surprised but pouted slightly nonetheless, "just so you guy's know, I was all for flight". His younger siblings snorted as they made their' way up the ramp. Though the chairs were a good weapon to have none of them needed one, not even Evan. Immediately DX rushed to meet them half way, bring their' chairs to bear as the Johns bum rushed them.

Ducking the chair shot meant to scramble his brains, Evan punched Michaels in the nuts dropping the showstopper like a rock. Grabbing the suddenly discarded weapon he swung it full force into the incapacitated man's temple. Brandon had tackled Triple H and was currently punching the slightly taller male's lights out. The blond was doing his best to throw him off but it was fast becoming impossible to focus with his face beginning to give under Brandon's fist. Viluppo taunted Chyna as the ninth wonder tried to hit her with the chair but missed every time. Incensed, the dark haired bodyguard dropped her chair and tackled Delia to the ground.

Like her sister Delia let the momentum of Chyna's tackle drive her to the floor while planting her feet into the older woman's sternum and launching Chyna up and over her head. Flipping up to her feet Delia scrambled to retrieve the chair Chyna dropped, while Chyna struggled to get on her feet. Meanwhile, Evan and Brandon ganged up on Triple H, beating him bloody while HBK lay unconscious just a foot away. They didn't notice other referees and guards coming to break up the fight until multiple pairs of arms were physically pulling them off. The siblings didn't fight them because there was no use with their' victims down and thoroughly beaten. The roar of the crowd never registered as they were dragged off back stage while EMT's went to work on DX.

"What the hell was that", Vince was in the back waiting for them and he looked pissed. Brandon regarded their' employer steadily and was about to defend his and his younger sibling actions when he was interrupted. "I believe Degeneration X failed in their' attempt to assault my siblings Mr. McMahon I don't believe you will accost them further for self defense", Abeebah moved to stand beside Brandon her mask lifted so that her chilling scowl was seen by all. They didn't think that the businessman was aware he took a step back until he already moved. Vince scowled, "They went too far". Abeebah's expression darkened as she bore holes into her employer's dark gaze. "You're right", Brandon, Delia, and Evan didn't even blink, "DX did go too far".

Vince's expression soured even more, "that's not what I meant and you know it". "I don't care, DX went after my brothers and sister outside a match with the full intent of doing them harm that is more than enough reason for me to cripple them let alone the little spanking they got out there". Vince's scowl relaxed though his eyebrows still drew together pensively, "this is a business and I can't have wrestlers constantly injured, I don't care for those degenerates anymore than you but they are popular and Shawn Michaels still has to fight the Undertaker". Abeebah's lips trembled, repressing the need to sneer. "This stopped being about business the moment those dumbasses decided to bring their' personal vendettas into the equation", she retorted.

Seeing he wasn't going to get anywhere with trying to reason with the dark haired brawler Vince grit his teeth and turned his attention to the younger Johns. All of them looked tired but satisfied as they watched him through lowered lashes. "All I ask is that you 'try' to tone it down", he told them. Finally Brandon spoke, "As Morte said they started this and if they continue it I can guarantee them nothing less than no mercy". Evan, Delia, and Abeebah all nodded in agreement. They weren't going to back down on this. Tight lipped McMahon glared but made no other move to further provoke them. It was obvious that there was no protecting his investment against the four horsemen.

He shuddered inwardly, though Morte hadn't been convicted her record was a bleak testament to how far she was willing and able to go when it came to violence. The brawl with DX only proved that her siblings were the same. Seeing identical stone still expression on their' young faces was disturbing even to Vince so he walked away not bothering to try and punish them. Brandon shot Abeebah a look once the millionaire was gone, "You promised to stay". "I lied", his sister informed him wryly.

Seeing Brandon gearing to go at it Abeebah tilted her head slightly, silently indicating the camera which was currently trained on them or more specifically on Brandon. The second eldest Johns scowled, "let's go". His siblings followed him back to their' locker room without complaint and empathically shut the door behind them when they got there. Evan immediately sat down on the bench while Abeebah leaned up against the wall closest to the door. "Well that's one problem down", said Delia cheerfully pulling Brandon to sit next to her on the bench. Abeebah snorted, "We ain't out of the woods yet sweet heart".

Brandon nodded in agreement, "any ideas on the Undertaker/Kane thing". Their' older sister grimaced, "I'm gonna have to talk to ol' doom and gloom bout that cause I don't think try'n to talk to Kane is a good idea". Worriedly Brandon, Delia, and Evan watched their' older sister's usually bland visage ran the gauntlet of emotions. She obviously didn't want to get involved with the deadman anymore that her siblings wanted her involved with him. 'But what other option is there', Brandon asked himself bitterly. "Stop it Brandon", the green eyed man looked into Abeebah's glaring hazel orbs, "you still have a match tonight, let me worry about my little problem".

And not for the first time that night he wanted to argue with Abeebah, to tell her she would not deal with this on her own. But he didn't, because he knew that she was right and there was nothing he or any of their' siblings could do. "Is he even here", Evan asked breaking the silence finally. "I don't know", 'thank god', she added mentally. It was bad enough that his brother had a link strong enough to 'speak' to her. Abeebah wasn't about to tell her younger siblings that though. Brandon would surely lose his focus, Delia, and Evan would argue tooth and nail for her to allow them to try and help. And Abeebah didn't want them involved if she could help it. Delia watched their' sister with frustration.

Abeebah was shutting them out again; empty smile firmly tugging at her slightly chapped lips. However they could all see that it was slightly forced. Before either she or Evan could muster up an argument Brandon grasped at each of their' shoulders. Delia turned her dark glower toward him while Evan regarded him with only a slight irritation. However Brandon had his eyes affixed on Abeebah. His eyes were demanding, "see you at the hotel". Bowing her head slightly, Abeebah pulled down her mask and left the room without saying a word. "What the fuck-". He held up his hand silencing Delia, "Let her deal, she'll come to us when she's ready".

"That's bull shit Brandon, nothing short of Armageddon would cause Abeebah to let us 'get involved' and you know it", scoffed Evan. Brandon shrugged, "There's nothing we can do and we got to trust Abeebah to be able to handle herself". Evan and Delia didn't relent in their' glaring unconvinced by the older Johns's impassioned words. Brandon ignored them though and instead try to focus his mind on his upcoming match. He would see Abeebah back at the hotel and there was no room in heart to think otherwise. Abeebah quickly found a stage hand and politely asked if the Undertaker was in the arena tonight. It turned out that the deadman was there but he wasn't in a good mood. The stage hand warned her that she should probably avoid him at all cost.

Kane was on a rampage and had had an encounter with the Undertaker that left both parties in foul moods. Abeebah now knew 'why' she felt so angry, betrayed, and guilty. 'Those two fucking assholes have been dumping their' shit on me', she raged silently. The silent accusation was answered by two distinct pulses of fury nearly bring Abeebah to her knees. "Where is he"? The stage hand didn't think twice about answering her. He had gone to his private locker room further in the back. Not bothering to be polite anymore Abeebah stalked off to find Undertaker. 'Where are you, little blade'? Not breaking her stride the eldest Johns snarled, 'Get the fuck out of my head'. Another searing wave of anger seeped into her skin. 'Where are you'?

And again Abeebah refused to answer and this time with more than a little venom behind her mental voice. The answering ferocity had the native Philadelphian gasping for air and using the wall to steady herself, "Son of a bitch". "I hope that ain't me you talk'n about me girl". Abeebah looked up. Undertaker was looking down at her from his lofty height, his pale skin paler than normal, long dark hair awry and his eyes surrounded by dark shadows. His proud shoulders were hunched defensively, once electric green gaze now dull having the deadman looking a little more dead than usual. "Close enough considering that psycho fuck that is your brother is currently tormenting me", she harped tiredly.

For a moment Undertaker merely stared at her, "come on", he led her back to his locker room. Grasping her hand Undertaker pulled Abeebah to sit next to him. She didn't even flinch, "any ideas cause' ignoring it ain't gonna cut it". He was quiet, misery oozing out of every pore. 'God I want to just go and kill something', she thought as another pile of emotions seemed to cumulate in her mind. After a few more minutes of silence he finally spoke, "when I went with Bearer", Undertaker drawled, "He took me to New Orleans and left me there in the care of an old friend".

Abeebah listened carefully as her fellow wrestler went on to explain that this 'old friend' was a witch by the name of Matilda Walker. She was skilled in her craft and though not 'good' by any stretch of the imagination Matilda was decent enough to warn him about Bearer. "I should've listened; she didn't even know that he'd convinced me to start that fire". Abeebah could see the regret clear as day in his eyes. It didn't take a genius to figure out the general idea of what he did.

"Deadman or not you're still human Mark, which means you get to fuck up like the rest of us", she told him awkwardly. Undertaker laughed bitterly, "Yeah and Kane paid for it". Unconsciously she reached up and tugged a lock of his hair feeling the silken texture between her fingers. No wonder Brandon did this so often with her it was calming. Surprisingly he leaned into the touch. "Most people would run in the other direction, not comfort me", he rumbled softly.

"Is that what I'm doing", Abeebah spoke absently, "merely because I don't judge you because I have no right to"? He closed his eyes and leaned away. Abeebah let him, watchful as ever. "I'll contact Matilda, she'll have an answer", Undertaker said finally. "That still leaves your psychotic little brother", Abeebah reminded him wryly. He shrugged and cast his eyes away from her penetrating gaze, "Right now there is nothing we can do". Abeebah grit her teeth and glared. "I will not fight him". She raised an eyebrow, "something tells me talking to him ain't gonna work", Abeebah said wryly.

She could feel the icy grip of Undertaker's rage as he turned to glare at her, "I burnt him alive, left him for dead, and killed our parents". Abeebah relaxed slightly as the glacial grip of Undertaker's rage lessoned the burning sensation of Kane's. Abeebah smiled coldly, "I've done worse on purpose so stop you're bitching", she thought of the night of Brandon's eighteenth birthday, lots of alcohol, and a pink floral sun dress. Brandon never forgave her for that night. The older wrestler stilled feeling nothing but honesty coming off of her. Yet there was no regret only a sense of wistfulness as if recalling a fond memory. "You sick".

Abeebah sniffed, "coming from you that's a compliment", she looked away from him, "I can understand why you don't want to fight him but you're gonna have to confront him eventually". Undertaker crossed his arms over his chest; put off that a woman who was obviously much younger than her thought that she could give 'him' advice. "Don't give me that look, just because ya older don't make ya wiser", Abeebah rolled her eyes and lifted her mask so that he could see her face. Running a finger down the scar on her face Abeebah sighed.

"Where'd ya get that souvenir", Undertaker finally asked after a moment of silence. Her tawny eyes rolled, "you think you're the only child in the world who put the coup de gras on your parents"? "I think you're trusting-". "I ain't trusting you anymore than you're trusting me", Abeebah interrupted, "I have your brother in my head and you in my heart, I don't know either of you and you don't know me". He nodded slowly, his respect for the young woman growing.

"So when can we expect an answer from the witch", Abeebah combed her hand through the thick fall of her hair. 'I need a trim', she thought with barely veiled grimace. The big man shrugged hardly paying attention to the slight irritation he could feel from her. "Depends, hopefully it'll be a ridiculously simple problem to fix, but I wouldn't hold my breath". Abeebah stood, "here's to hoping". He watched as the dark skinned brawler pulled down her mask and leave. The thought of following her crossed his mind before he quickly dismissed it, Kane had already taken too much interest in her and it would only make it worse if he showed any sign of being affiliated with the eldest of the horsemen.

Turning his attention inward Undertaker sighed as the searing lashes of Kane's emotions warmed him on the inside. He had won his match earlier only to be confronted by Kane and Paul. The encounter hadn't gone well and Undertaker was sure that his little brother hated him a bit more as time passed. The auburn haired Texan couldn't blame his brother for his hatred but Paul was using that hatred and using Kane, using his brother. And this, Undertaker would not abide even as the flames of Kane's feelings attempted to burn him alive. The heat would have been stifling had Abeebah not provoked his chilling ire.

Silently the Phenom wondered if she did it on purpose. Could she feel his younger brother as intensely as he? He had felt his brother's sudden curious agitation and had been about to leave and investigate what had captured Kane's attention so thoroughly. He hadn't expected to see Morte in the hallway hunched over in pain. The fact that she was able to feel Kane was not that surprising but he had hoped that this wouldn't happen. A potentially volatile situation just became an explosive one.

Brandon bounced on his toes trying to relax the tension he felt as he stood slightly away from the curtain. Delia and Evan hadn't come with him, instead heading back to the hotel to pack seeing as tomorrow the federation would be leaving New York and heading to Albany. Plus they were still pissed that he let Abeebah just walk away from them. "Hey". Leaf green eyes glanced and were met with a friendly smile and warm dark gaze. "Hey", Brandon replied but made no other overtures toward the curious man regarding him. "So you're Guerra", the man stated questioningly. Brandon shrugged, "yeah", he took in the silver tights dark skin and white boots, and "you're Scorpio aren't you"?

The older wrestler laced his hands behind his head with a cheeky smile and a nod, "Good luck, you're going to need it". And with that Scorpio turned away from him and went to go make his entrance. Amused Brandon rolled his eyes with a smirk, 'well no one seems to be short on confidence here', he thought wryly. And finally it was Brandon's turn to make his entrance. He smiled as he thought about the conversation he had with the sound technicians about his theme music and lighting. It was a hard fought battle of words but Brandon managed to get them not to make his entrance like his sisters'. Suddenly Dead bodies everywhere by Korn began to play and Brandon walked out of the back, the strobe lights flashing eerily in the darkness.

Brandon walked down the ramp, his eyes fixated on Scorpio who was stretching in the ring. He ignored the cheering crowd and announcer conversation in the booth behind the ring. There was only here and now only the breath in his lungs and the fight that was sure to ensue once he entered that ring. Any and all personal problems were shelved when he fought and for that Brandon was grateful. Looking into his opponent's eyes the young brawler could see the confidence bleeding out of him. Brandon gave Scorpio a half smile worthy of his sister pausing as he reached the bottom of the ramp.

'Now how to enter the ring', he contemplated silently. Brandon didn't know whether he wanted to do something flashy or just continue with the menacing approach. 'Aww, what the hell', Brandon pulled himself up to the apron before using the top rope as leverage to front flip into the ring. He landed in a crouch one of his hands slapping the canvas in order to keep his balance while the other grasped at his knee. Brandon cocked his head to the side, seeing both the in ring announcer and Scorpio back away from him.

Slowly Brandon rose uncurling his long limbs like an expert ballet dancer and the lights went back to normal. Scorpio was staring at him as if he were evil incarnate and it became almost impossible for Brandon to not break down laughing. But somehow the green eyed young man managed to hold onto his composure as he stepped into the center of the ring to face Scorpio. The more experienced of the two seemed more reluctant but did the same.

'Where is his confidence now', Brandon wondered, 'he was so sure that it was I who needed the luck just a few minutes ago'. Yet none of his thoughts shown on his face as Brandon squared off against Scorpio as the referee called for the bell. They grappled each other and Brandon easily pushed the older man off of him and sent Scorpio skidding back first into a turnbuckle. Not giving him a chance to breath Brandon sent a quick jab to Scorpio's ribs and then another to his jaw and another to his now unguarded side.

He did not let up his hands all but flying to unintentionally open areas on Scorpio's head and torso. The referee pulled Brandon off him just in time for the dark skinned wrestler to collapse, reeling from the beating he was taking. Brandon easily backed off; this was wrestling after all not fighting to survive. The referee began the ten as Scorpio sluggishly tried to get to his feet. And suddenly all the lights went out, only for the pyros on the ramp to go off and was swiftly followed by a familiar haunting tune and red light flooding the arena.

"Shit", Brandon turned his attention toward the ramp where Kane was headed down to the ring. Paul Bearer wasn't with him whether that was a good or bad thing Brandon didn't know nor care. Backing up the young man was about to get out of the ring only to be stopped short by pyros in the turnbuckles going off. Brandon flinched away from the ropes, "ok so much for that". He glanced around the ring and cursed. The referee had managed to skitter out of the ring and Scorpio was no where in sight.

The big red machine pulled himself up to the apron and easily stepping over the top rope got up close and personal to the brother of his query. His eyes locked with Brandon's, intent flashing across his mismatched gaze. Brandon was secure enough in himself to admit he was afraid of this man. And wise enough to know that backing down would be the smartest thing he could ever do, however Brandon also knew that he was cornered and that escape was fast becoming impossible.

Scenarios flickered through his mind each ending with him beaten to the pulp in the middle of this ring. And then, lightening quick Kane grasped his throat almost cutting off Brandon's air supply with the force of his grip. Immediately the green eyed wrestler's fist flew, connecting with the big red machine's expressionless mask. He didn't even flinch. Brandon barely had breath to gasp in pain as the being looming over him squeezed his neck even tighter until finally Brandon mule kicked him in the family jewels. Kane dropped him and he scrambled to get out of the ring.

Kane bent over slightly, pain danced across his nerve endings nowhere near as agonizing as being burnt but just enough to give him pause. Straightening his eyes immediately zeroed in on the wrestler whom he had by the throat mere moments ago. Guerra had rolled out of the ring and jumped over the barricade to make a hasty exit through the crowd. He cocked his head slightly his dark curls spilling over his shoulders in a child-like manner. Kane never seen anyone move that fast before. He went after him knowing that the boy was probably lead him to his query and then. 'Then what', he questioned himself. To put it simply Kane didn't know.

His mind and heart was split in so many directions that it was hard for him to even think straight. This connection with a masked stranger was just another in a multitude of problems plaguing him. He could feel her even now, a cold presence ghosting its way up his spine. So similar to his brother but so different, Kane shook his head slightly trying to keep his mind on task. Both he and his current prey were wading through the crowd which was doing nothing to help Guerra as they gathered to pat him on the back while parting like the red sea for Kane. Yet somehow Guerra still managed to elude him all the way to the backstage, where Kane finally caught up to him and grasped him by the throat once more.

And once again Guerra fought even as he was tossed into an unforgiving concrete wall, he kicked scratched punched and clawed at the big red machine trying to get away. It only served to anger Kane further as he was tossed Guerra around like a rag doll. Neither of them noticed the camera man recording the whole affair. Everyone in the arena was witness to the fight going on between them, even Abeebah who just happened to pass a monitor on her way back to their' locker room. The eldest Johns took one look at the predicament her brother was in and rushed off to find him. By the time she got there though Brandon was a bloody mess on the floor, Kane standing over his prone figure. Staring at the scene before her Abeebah felt her gut clench painfully.

'This is wrong', her mind screamed. Memories flashed through her mind, going to school with Brandon, smiling with him, crying with him, fighting him, fighting for him. And now her little brother lay in a pool of his own life force. She snapped. Picking up a spare pipe that just happened to be lying around, Abeebah swung full force into the back of the big red machine's knees, causing the big man to fall. Not thinking twice the eldest Johns immediately hit him in the back of the head.

A scream of rage and pain welled in Abeebah's throat but the sound never left her lips as she beat the big man down. She didn't stop to think she didn't stop to breath all Abeebah could do was protect her little brother, whom currently couldn't defend himself. It wasn't until her fourth swing that Abeebah regained her presence of mind and dropped the pipe. Kane laid face first on the concrete floor, breathing deeply. He was nowhere near as beaten as Brandon but it didn't matter, Abeebah had accomplished her goal of getting him off of her brother. Taking a deep breath she turned her attention to Brandon, and held back a sigh of relief.

He was struggling to get up to his knees but at least he was aware enough to try. Abeebah walked around the downed Kane and dropped into a crouch beside her brother. The length of his right arm had a deep gash where his life's blood spilled forth. Near Brandon's temple was a quickly purpling bruise, explaining why her brother had such difficulty getting to his feet beside a heavily bleeding arm. "Still alive, little brother"? Though half his face as covered in the blood he had been lying in moments ago Brandon's green gaze immediately focused on her, 'good no concussion'.

He looked at his sister's masked face and gave her a lopsided smile, "Still alive big sister", he replied with a groan as he finally managed to get his knees under him. Abeebah let him; the faster they got away from Kane beaten or not the better. They both willfully ignored the cameraman still recording what was going on. Brandon because he was in too much pain to care and Abeebah because she feared what she'd do to the cameraman for his inaction on Brandon's behalf, 'some one could have at least called the police', she thought furiously.

"So what'd ya do to brimstone breath"? Abeebah turned her attention back to Brandon who was now on one knee. She gracefully rose to her feet, "went Lui' Ville slugger on his ass with a pipe". Brandon froze in his own assent and Abeebah suddenly was worried something was wrong. Then he laughed, it was a harsh barking sound but his older sister was glad to hear it. The younger Philadelphian stumbled to his feet managed to retain his balance even as he continued to laugh. "I should have thought of that", his voice was laced with irony and a little self chiding.

Abeebah scowled under her mask, "yeah you should've it isn't like you were a little more preoccupied by the seven foot tall psycho trying to beat you to within an inch of your life". Sarcasm practically oozed off of Abeebah like a thick coat of lava. Though he couldn't see her face Brandon got her message loud and clear. 'Stop blaming yourself, you're being stupid'. He sighed in agreement, he wasn't about to argue with Abeebah especially when she was right.

They didn't even notice the cameraman leave. Suddenly Brandon found himself painfully knocked to the ground once more falling on his already injured arm. He exhaled painfully and rolled unto his side trying to relieve the white hot stinging shooting its way up his shoulder. The headache that had been building throughout the entire situation exploded, leaving the now sickly pale brawler breathless as he finally blacked out. His brain couldn't handle anymore shock.

Kane had miraculously though not surprisingly gotten back to his feet. He knocked Guerra back to the ground while simultaneously grasping Morte's arm with his ungloved hand. It felt like an electrical current passed between them causing Morte to shout in surprise and a grunt of confusion to issue from Kane's damaged throat. However he refused to let go forcefully spinning the young woman in his grasp around to face him. An ice blue eye and forest green eye clashed against livid gold and both of them froze. 'Who are you'? Abeebah shiver as a smokey voice whispered to her, no longer demanding but coaxing caressing and quietly curious.

Abeebah's heart thundered in her chest as she tried to gain control over herself. She wanted to answer him, wanted to curl up against him like a well petted cat, and spill all her secrets to him. It was a frightening thought that she could trust anyone that much less the man who had attacked her brother just moments ago. Even more frightening was her sudden need to touch, to feel Kane's skin against her own. Snapping out of her daze Abeebah tried to pull away from Kane. His grip tightened almost painfully as he continued to stare at her.

Abeebah grit her teeth, trying to ignore the incessant murmurs now filling her mind. Kane too heard the whispers but years of isolation with only his agony as company made it all too easy to ignore. He watched her struggle with confusion over urges she didn't understand. Kane didn't need to see her face to know Morte was slowly giving into the demands that seemed to be placed on both of them. Kane could feel her confusion pierce through his own heart as she began to shake. He pulled her closer to his muscled form instinctually leaning down so his masked face met hers. Kane never felt something so right in his entire life. Neither had she, it scared Abeebah like never before.

'What the hell is wrong with me', she snarled mentally, Abeebah could barely tolerate her own siblings touching her let alone the bear of a man fitting her curves into the solid muscles of his seven foot frame. Once again Abeebah tried to pull away but Kane remained unmoving. At this point she was almost ready to beg as the calls reached a crescendo, tearing her apart from the inside, 'I am Abeebah'. Kane ran a soothing hand down her back, calming his own nerves in the process.

'I am Glen', he thought back automatically just as confused as Abeebah as to why he couldn't stop himself. Tears of frustration slid down the sculpted surface of Abeebah's mask. 'You don't know what is happening do you', Kane made no move to put any distance between them. Fury lit Abeebah's eyes with an unholy light and Kane could hear her grinding teeth, 'no'. He wished that he could see her face. Kane tilted his head slightly; he didn't know what to do.

"Let me go", Abeebah finally spoke aloud her voice harsh to her own ears. Kane stared, 'why'. Again he felt her frustration, sharp and focused but nowhere as intense as his brother's. It was intoxicating. "Why not", she retorted glaring up at him. Kane remained unmoving as he watched her. 'Why not', he echoed silently, why he went after her in the first place, 'for answers', he told himself. 'But she doesn't have any'. And he knew she wasn't lying. Almost reluctantly Kane forced himself to step away. Abeebah didn't need a second invitation and was at Brandon's side a heartbeat later.

She never took her eyes of Kane, "Brandon get up". Her brother groaned but otherwise remained motionless. A litany of curses issued from Abeebah's lips turning the air around them black. Then she tried again, "Get up Brandon". This time her brother didn't even groan. Concern crept it way into Abeebah's heart but she remained unmoving with a potential threat so close. Still highly in tuned with the young woman before him Kane could feel her conflict about helping her brother and keeping an eye on him. The big red machine felt something in his gut twist at Abeebah's distrust of him.

'You should be used to it by now', Kane scowled under his mask, 'what makes her any different than anybody else'. Still, anger swelled inside of him and Kane couldn't help but to back away. He might not be able to escape from Abeebah's feelings of distrust but at least he wouldn't have to see it in her eyes. The dark skinned wrestler watched him go and didn't move until his hulking form fading past her line of vision. Turning her attention back to her brother Abeebah sighed.

Carefully she slide Brandon's uninjured arm around her shoulders ignoring the blood now seeping into her gi and hooked her other arm around Brandon's waist. Gritting her teeth Abeebah hauled herself onto her feet. Brandon moaned in pain but didn't wake as he was half lifted onto his sister's shoulders. Abeebah grunted as she took on the brunt of Brandon's weight and began to drag him off to the general direction of the where she thought the trainer was. A few minutes later she found the head trainer and didn't even have to say a word as he helped settle Brandon on an examination table. The man worked deftly removing the light skinned wrestler's shirt and cleaning the blood off of his face, throat, arms and torso.

He glanced toward Abeebah, "are you hurt"? "The blood is his", she told him her voice all but growling out the words. Having plenty of experience with ticked off wrestlers the trainer wisely went back to checking up on his patient. He wrapped the downed wrestler's injured arm securely in gauze and used the smelling salt to wake him up. Abeebah moved closer to her awakening brother and sighed in relief when his eyes immediately focused on her.

"What happened"? Nonchalantly as she could manage with her aching shoulders Abeebah shrugged. "Kane happened". Understanding flashed across Brandon's face as he closed his eyes with a huff. The trainer glanced at her masked face once again, "your friend's lucky", he handed her a small bottle of pills. Abeebah stared at him questioningly. "Make sure he take's those before he goes to bed, now I suggest you two call it a night", the trainer told them simply.

Neither Johns were inclined to argue. They both thanked the trainer, went to change into their' street clothes and headed back to the hotel where their' younger siblings were waiting for them. As soon as they were in hers and Brandon's room Abeebah updated her younger siblings on the situation between she and the Undertaker. None of them were any happier but at least there was a piece of good news in a night filled with bad ones. Evan and Delia went to bed and Abeebah made Brandon take the pills before doing the same.


	5. Beloved

A month and a half passed since Undertaker and Morte last spoke. Even in their' now frequent shared dreams they didn't speak, ignoring each others presences as best as they could. In that time the four horsemen had gained a measure of notoriety. Everyone was impressed with their' confrontation with DX but the fact that Guerra could still manage to fight let alone win a match against Marc Mero after the beating Kane gave him really impressed a lot of people. His sisters also made names for themselves. Viluppo became known as the most vicious diva to ever grace the women's locker room by defeating Luna and Morte was quickly gaining popularity because of her back to back match against Jacqueline and a newly returned Sable.

Morte won both matches without much challenge and was a very gracious victor never once bad mouthing her defeated opponents. Even the youngest of the horsemen Lue had managed to become know as quite the little businessman as he did a few 'odd jobs' for Commissioner Slaughter. Yet to everyone's surprise the four siblings made no other moves to further their' carriers in the federation. They seemed content with slowly making their' way up the ranks without really making any true impact, avoiding the drama normally associated with the WWF.

Undertaker observed this all from afar as he and Morte generally avoided each other like the plague. The big man didn't mind overly much as having more than his brothers emotions filtering through him was still discerning. At the thought of Kane Undertaker sighed. There were rumors going around that Paul and Kane had a falling out. Normally he wouldn't stake much in gossip but the Auburn haired man had no definitive answer because he could only sense his brother's feelings not thoughts. 'You could ask Abeebah', he told himself and snorted. The young woman who was thrust quite unwillingly into his family drama was doing her best to ignore what was happening until a solution was found.

Undertaker seriously doubted if she would help gain insight to the condition of the fat man's and Kane's relationship. Undertaker sighed again as he laced up his boots, brooding over the situation wasn't going to improve it no more than holding his breath waiting for Matilda to call him back about his 'little problem'. The phenom quirked a half smirk half scowl at the thought of the old witch he had spoken to just over a month and a half ago. Matilda had listened at great length to what he had to say and then empathically told Undertaker that she needed to do research and to not expect a call any time soon. She then hung up on him without another word.

Vince had finally booked his match against Michaels a few weeks later. It was to be a grand affair at the next royal rumble. The heartbreak kid against the Undertaker for the world wrestling federation championship in a casket match the overly smug McMahon had told him a few weeks back. The deadman didn't care as long as he got his hands on Michaels throat than he was content. Standing from the bench he had been sitting at Undertaker rolled his shoulders back trying to loosen the knot that was stubbornly forming between his shoulder blades. He glanced at the clock above the door, his match would be soon. Leaving his locker room Undertaker made his way toward backstage only to catch the tail end of a Michaels interview on one of the monitors.

The degenerates had long ago healed from the beating they received from the horsemen; however Hunter was injured from defending his intercontinental title some weeks back. They were all surrounding Michael Cole Triple H included crutches and all. And listening to the bullshit spewing from HBK's mouth Undertaker wasn't surprised. The showstopper would need all the protection he could get once he got his hands on him. The auburn haired man growled almost thunderously toward an unfortunate stagehand to cue his entrance music.

'No one fucks with my family'. Shawn smiled smugly at the camera, assured that the Undertaker would make an appearance after announcing to the entire world that Kane was joining D generation X. 'And then', but before he could complete the thought the lights turned off signaling the deadman's entrance. Thunder and tooling bells sounded and purple lights illuminated throughout the arena. A chill like he only felt twice before settled in Shawn's heart as he watched the Undertaker make his approach. It wasn't as slowly eerie like normal.

Instead it was a barely controlled prowl of an incensed predator. And his focus was solely on him. Shawn suddenly didn't feel so confident any more, not even with his entourage standing in the ring with him. However he refused to back down even as the 6'10 three hundred some odd pound man got up in his face with a thunderous expression on his face. Michael Cole raised his mic toward the phenom, "Now Michaels I would appreciate it if ya left my family out of this, this has nothing to do with my little brother Kane". The show stopper smirked sure that he had gotten under the usually untouchable man's skin.

If possible Undertaker got even closer the feral growl in his voice vibrating throughout his entire frame, "And if I was you I'd be worried about the royal rumble, the world wrestling federation title, and the Undertaker punching about a six inch hole right in the middle of your forehead". Any and all smugness vanished from HBK's face as just how pissed Undertaker was sunk in. Yet before any plans of hasty retreat could form in the young champion's head the deadman's hand was around his throat ready to chokeslam him to hell.

Chyna attacked him from behind distracting the big man just enough to let go of Michaels so he could get away. Cole made a hasty exit. Undertaker now had his hand around the ninth wonder of the world's throat, with a snarl he stared down at her. And once again he was attacked from behind, this time by Triple H who hit him in the back with one of his crutches. Throwing Chyna to face one of her employers Undertaker went on the attack now too blinded by his cold fury to notice that he had been set up hook line and sinker for Michaels who went unnoticed by him until the showstopper had already kicked the taste out of his mouth.

Undertaker did his best to shake off the sudden sharp shooting pain along his jaw as he fell to the mat. Michaels didn't let him get up. The younger man grabbed one of his fellow DX member's fallen crutches and began to beat the big man down. Hunter soon joined him kicking and punching the downed giant without remorse or restraint as Chyna stood by and watched. Then the pyros on the ramp went off as Kane's music began to play. He was coming.

The big red machine made his way toward the ring at a brisk pace his mismatched eyes fixed upon the diminutive man kneeling over his brother punching him. Kane could feel every stinging shot, could feel his brother's festering temper and sudden helplessness as if it were his own. The big man silently wondered why he cared. Once again Kane was alone, Paul had thought to teach him another lessen by abandoning him a few weeks ago.

Yet the crimson demon didn't trust anyone and he never lost sight of why he was in the WWF. He wanted his brother in pain, wanted him to suffer as he suffered didn't he? However Kane couldn't get over the sight of the juvenile fools doing harm to his older brother. So he would help Mark, but Kane would not stop his pursuit for revenge until he had it. The big man stepped over the top rope and made his way to where HBK was punching away at his brother's face.

The showstopper's back was toward him so he never saw him until Kane was already pulling the little man off the Undertaker by his hair. Chyna and Triple H tried to hit Kane with the crutches. It only distracted the big man long enough for their' leader to get out of the chestnut haired demon's grasp. Quickly all three of them got out the ring, knowing that they were out classed. Kane didn't think twice about going after them. Then an idea seemed to take root in his mind, turning into a half formed plan by the time he was all the way up the ramp and DX had run backstage where he didn't follow.

He turned to watch his brother recover with a deep breath. Inside the ring Undertaker stumbled to his feet, still in a daze at the beating he took at the hands of DX. The deadman recovered enough to see his younger sibling chase away his attackers and turn back to look at him. Confusion and hope blossomed in his otherwise cold heart as his gaze met Kane's. His little brother ducked his head in a shy manner that was very out of place because of his stature and then Kane bowed on one knee, stretching forth his hand.

Undertaker's breath caught in his throat as he gaped minutely at the sight before him. Disbelief and hope cooled the fires of Kane's heart as his brother's slightly wide eyes regarded him. Unlike so many times before Kane didn't fight the feeling and instead sent tendrils of reassurance toward his older siblings frozen form. Undertaker sank to his knee bowing his head to hide the tears of joy that wanted to spill forth. He breathed in deeply a smile tugging at his lips, flinging back his hair the dead man returned his brother's gesture much to the spectators delight. The pyros in the turnbuckles went off bathing the entire arena in ambient red light.

Kane's music played and the big man got up and left. Undertaker would come to find him later. The deadman bowed his head, listening to the thunderous roar of the crowd around him. Usually Undertaker despised public displays of emotion. He had been taught the hard way that it was a weakness his entire life. A weakness that many wouldn't think twice about exploiting, but at that moment Undertaker didn't mind so much. Years of loneliness and guilt melted away from his heart. Everything wasn't perfect or truly put to rights but at least Kane was giving him a chance. Undertaker got up and slipped out of the ring, he needed to talk to Morte.

In their' locker room three of the four horsemen surrounding their' eldest sister in a loose circle where she all but lay on the concrete floor. Abeebah was struggling to breath and had long since lifted her mask in the hopes to ease more air into her lungs. But it didn't seem to work, Brandon who stood behind her tried to think of what to do. Getting one of the trainers crossed his mind several times but Abeebah's lack of breath was sudden with no prior indication of difficulty.

He seriously doubted if this was caused by any physical problems because everything he could think of would have some warning signs. Evan and Delia were looked back and forth between their' two elder siblings questions and worry flying across their' faces. But Brandon didn't know what to do and it was obvious that his younger brother and sister didn't have a clue either. Coughing hoarsely Abeebah spoke her voice a mere whisper, "Find Undertaker and tell him to get his dead ass here". For a moment the three horsemen were still passing looks between each other before finally Delia silently slipped away from the circle they had formed around Abeebah, wordlessly accepting the task. She left without as much as a backwards glance.

It didn't take long to find the big man as he was heading in the general direction of their' locker room anyway. Angry, Delia told Undertaker quite succulently what her sister said word for word. The phenom stared down at Abeebah's sister, taking in the girl's obvious agitation. Undertaker couldn't claim to know Viluppo but she didn't seem to him like a woman that would get upset over nothing. "What happened"? A plethora of emotions scrolled across the horsemen's face, too quick to follow. "She collapsed". Undertaker felt a twinge of guilt only to forcefully push it to the back of his mind. Abeebah obviously had succumbed to the intensity of his and his brother's emotions. However there was no telling how much adverse effect their' combined emotions would have if it continued.

But he wasn't going to tell Viluppo that, especially standing in the middle of the hallway. It didn't matter where the WWF went the halls would always have ears and something told him that this girl's reaction would be vocal enough to probably wake the dead. Undertaker stared at the caramel skinned beauty wordlessly telling her to lead him to her sister. Viluppo glared back balefully but led him to their' locker room. By the time they got there Abeebah had recovered enough to be moved to the bench. As soon as they entered the locker room Viluppo made her way to her elder brother who stood up against the wall next to the lockers. Lue sat next to his older sister on the bench.

Their' eyes were all trained on him. "He still hates you, you know". Undertaker moved deeper into the locker room taking in how positively ashen the eldest horsemen was. Her usually clear mocking eyes were clouded over in confusion. She was shaking all over as if the very chill of the arctic had taken residence in her bones. Undertaker felt more disturbed by Abeebah's state than he thought possible. "God he hates you so much that it makes his stomach turn, but he couldn't-". She closed her eyes with a shaky breath, "He couldn't let them hurt you because as much as he hates you, he loves you too". Moving even closer the phenom kneeled before her.

"Are you alright", It was a stupid question and he acknowledged that as soon as he opened his mouth. Even though her gaze was unfocused and her emotions were still pale in comparison to his and Kane's Undertaker could still see the irritation creeping its way into Abeebah's ill visage. "No deadman I pretty fucking far from alright", she all but hissed. He noted absently that her siblings seemed surprised by her display of temper. For a long time no one said anything. Finally Evan broke the silence, "What's going on Beebs". "Your sister had a case of sensory overload".

Viluppo raised an eyebrow in question. "I'm assuming that you know of our", Undertaker paused trying to find a word that best described their' current situation besides problem. "Connection", Abeebah supplied helpfully, "no matter how wrong on every level it is", she continued not so helpfully. The auburn haired wrestler simply nodded, "Kane is giving me a chance, a slim chance but I'm willing if he is". Abeebah rolled her eyes heavenward, "You take his hand and he will take a knife and stick it right in your heart, he still hates you or weren't you listening". Undertaker looked her right in the eye, "But you said he loved me as well, I might be a fool for thinking that might be enough but I have to try".

Abeebah couldn't argue with that point because she knew she would be the same if it were one of her siblings. The phenom was obviously as emotionally exhausted as she and desperate to be reconciled with his brother. Cursing softly Abeebah turned her glare to an empty corner. "What about the lady you talked about"? Undertaker sighed silently in relief, thankful for the obvious subject change. "I talked to her over a month ago she said that she wouldn't have an answer any time soon". Abeebah's scowl deepened ominously but she didn't speak. "And what's to stop Beebs from having another episode", a quiet growl escaped Brandon's throat as he addressed the older wrestler.

Undertaker shrugged and fought the sheepish expression that wanted to take up residence on his face. "I can't guarantee it won't happen", once again he paused trying to find the right words to say; "Kane and I are very emotional". It hurt his pride to admit but Undertaker knew he owed Abeebah an answer to that question at least. And his sense of honor wouldn't stand for anything less but what he felt was right. He also knew that she wouldn't see it as a weakness and wouldn't tolerate her siblings trying to use it against him either. It was strange, confiding in someone after so many years of isolation. But speaking freely with Abeebah even in the presence of others felt right and right now he wasn't going to question it.

"I don't think it would be a good idea if you fight tonight then", Brandon said turning attention to his elder sister. Undertaker raised an eyebrow at this. Abeebah was looking between each of her younger siblings Delia and Evan each in turn nodded in agreement with Brandon. If it had been him Undertaker would have told them to fuck off. But then again the dark haired woman had proved on more than one occasion that she was more level headed then most. "I agree with you", Abeebah said, "but I seriously doubt that McMahon is just going to let this slide". "You haven't lost a match yet so why wouldn't he", he youngest brother asked with a snarl. She regarded him calmly, "besides I can't give a reasonable explanation for such an absence".

Evan was quiet. Abeebah gave her brother a half hearted smirk, "I'll be fine just watch your own asses cause something tells me I'll be to busy dealing with my own problems to watch them for you". Brandon sighed, "You're not gonna let us help are you". "No", she replied without preamble. For a moment all three of her younger siblings harbored thoughts of getting involved anyway. But looking at the Undertaker kneeling before their' sister, an unknowing protective gleam in his lime eyes they each decided against it.

However what really made them change their' minds lay in the fact that neither Abeebah nor Undertaker noticed their' fingers had somehow become intertwined. For their' reticent sister to allow such a touch without repercussions was stunning to them. This bear of a man had done nothing to endear himself to their' sister and the only thing they seemed to have in common was their' current 'problem' yet they were touching each other as if it were the most natural thing in the world. None of them liked it but the big bad Undertaker was more than capable of taking care of Abeebah and unconsciously it seemed that she'd let him. So why fight it?

Surprisingly both Undertaker's and Abeebah's matches later that night went on without a hitch. DX made no appearance during either match and Abeebah's relapse seemed to have little to no effect while she fought the woman's champ Ivory in a non title match. The victory went to Abeebah automatically putting her in line for title contention. However when interviewed by Michael Cole about it the dark haired wrestler told him that she had no intention of going after the women's championship.

Everyone including the phenom who was keeping an eye on her from the shadows was surprised. It was one of the greatest pinnacles in a wrestler's carrier to receive a title shot and doing so with only a little over two months in the business under their' belt was impressive. Undertaker himself did it in six months and considering her competition it was conceivable that Morte do it in less. When asked why not Morte succulently informed her interviewer that she was just looking for a good fight.

Undertaker quirked a half amused smirk at her answer, Abeebah was so wise even wiser than he in some ways but at that moment the young woman he had come to respect showed her innocence. Even though she had been in the WWF employ for a couple of months she hadn't been dragged down into the drama nor thrown aside like so many wrestlers that came looking for success in the 'circus' as he was fond of calling it. Even her siblings called more attention to themselves.

Abeebah however didn't seem to want anything to make her stand out that much. She wasn't greedy or starved for attention and even though her victories were impressive Abeebah didn't get arrogant nor attempt to cause a stir. However it was this very same trait that drew people in, himself included. The girl was an abnormality among the abnormal. Confident enough to not be considered weak and an easy stepping stone for other wrestlers yet humble enough to not be looked at as a threat by most. Such a contradicting blend of traits was fascinating to observe.

After the interview Abeebah returned to the horsemen locker room only to see her siblings were gone. Why they had left she didn't know because neither Brandon nor Delia's matches were until later that night and Evan didn't fight at all. Then Undertaker entered the locker room. "I though we concluded our business earlier". Absently he noted her tone was dry and with her mask still hiding her features Abeebah's stance was almost comical at how at odds with the imposing mysterious aura her ring attire seemed to give her.

Unperturbed the deadman took a seat on the bench and regarded her calmly, "you said so yourself, ignoring this is getting us nowhere and considering Matilda has yet to call we got nothing but time". Abeebah twitched but didn't disagree with his assessment of the situation. She took as seat next to him on the bench and raised an eyebrow. "Well then any ideas on why we're", she grimaced, "connected cause there's no way in hell we're related". Mark frowned thoughtfully, "what do we have in common"? "We both offed our parents, we both can sense our siblings, and we both have a serious dislike of DX and that's about it". The older wrestler's frown deepened, "you were taken off guard when you had the overload, it was bound to happen before if you can sense all four". Abeebah shrugged, "Think highlander sense old man not borg sense, I know they're alive but I can't sense where they are nor their' state of mind".

Mark snorted, "I'm not that old". Raising her chin the younger wrestler smiled back toothily, "right", she drawled. Feeling a rare moment of immaturity take hold he crossed his massive arms over his chest defensively, "I'm only thirty two". "And I'm twenty which means yes Mark you are old". Suddenly the phenom froze and then let out a chuckle as he finally realized what Abeebah was doing. "Are Kane's emotions too stifling for you", he asked. "Yes", she tilted her head, "both of you are too intense, he's too hot and you're too cold".

He shrugged, it wasn't as if he could apologize for what he was. "We need to talk to Kane anyway so we might as well look for him now", Undertaker said standing to his feet. Not for the first time Abeebah questioned the demon of Death Valley's mental fortitude. The very idea that she would willingly get within fifty feet of the big red machine's carcass was laughable. Seeing the look on her face Mark sighed, "I know you don't trust him but we're all in this together whether we like it or not". "It's not that I don't trust him, it's the fact that I do even though I have every reason not to", she retorted.

The deadman hummed in the back of his throat, "I see your point but isn't the same between us, we have many reasons not to trust each other but we do despite the fact". Abeebah glared, "you haven't beaten my brother bloody and you don't have access to my thoughts". Again Mark had to concede to her point. Kane had proven volatile at best and it was obvious that he could feel Abeebah as much as she could feel him. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the big red machine went after her because of this. He had done much the same thing, only he didn't attack Abeebah's younger siblings. Undertaker felt a twinge of disappointment at his brother's behavior but couldn't really find it in himself to truly be angry.

He held out his hand. Mark sighed, "Please", it felt as if he were going to choke on the word but somehow managed to say it without faltering. For a moment Abeebah merely stared at the outstretched appendage. She had no reason to trust this man or his brother. But her heart, so normally quiet that it was still was screaming at her to do so. Unable to ignore its call the dark haired youth took hold of the older wrestlers hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet and out of the locker room.

Undertaker led his companion through the shadows of the arena hand in hand. They were like silent wraiths among the backstage crew that all of them saw but none acknowledged because there was no way that they couldn't see the deadman holding her hand as they walked through the halls. Or at least that's what Abeebah thought. A 6'10 man shouldn't be able to do what he was doing what he was doing right now. How could someone like the Undertaker go unnoticed when his mere presence sent the bravest of men into fits of terror was beyond Abeebah.

Surprisingly it didn't take long to find Kane who had seemingly been waiting for them in an out of way corner near the stadium boiler room. As soon as Undertaker let go of her hand Abeebah stepped behind him and out of Kane's immediate line of sight. It didn't matter, he already knew she was there but his attention was solely focused on his older brother. Moving forward the chestnut haired man looked Undertaker in the eye. Mark stared back searching Kane's eyes just as his brother was doing the same to him. Finally seemingly finding whatever he was looking for Kane turned his attention to Abeebah. Stepping aside the phenom grasped at her hand to stop Abeebah from backing away.

She glared at him only for her attention to be once again focused on Kane moments later when the crimson demon touched her throat with his ungloved hand. 'Hello little one'. A litany of mental curses answered him but Abeebah made no move to dislodge his hand as it gripped the back of her neck. Mark looked back and forth between his younger brother and temporary ally confused by the strange mixture of emotions coming off the two in waves. Kane seemed to be amused/curious while Abeebah was relaxed yet somehow agitated at the same time.

Kane become relaxed before his very eyes and almost child-like as he explored the woman's face with his mismatched gaze. Abeebah looked calm under the big man's touch but both he and his brother could feel her uneasiness with her own comfort. Neither of them could really blame her even though Kane made no move to release Abeebah. "We found him now what", the hazel eyed woman's voice was strained in her discomfort.

Both brothers ignored it, "We talk". The dark beauty rolled her eyes, "I can't read your mind so you're gonna have to be more specific old man". Mark froze; it wasn't like he could ask his brother what he'd been doing for the last twenty years. Kane glanced at his brother and to then Abeebah, 'speak for me', at her incredulous look Kane like his brother sighed, 'please'. Knowing that asking for help was even harder for Kane than even his head strong brother Abeebah nodded. "Kane says this might work better if we were all asleep".

The deadman raised an eyebrow at Abeebah's becoming an improve translator. "I thought of it but I'm not sure if all three of us could do that". His brother tilted his head toward him, "he says we should try anyway and F.Y.I. I agree with him". Undertaker frowned thoughtfully before nodding. They needed to explore the limitations of this 'link' and they might find at least some answers inside their' minds. "My room is 31-E be there at midnight". Finally letting go of Abeebah with a pat on her head Kane grunted his agreement. The eldest of the horsemen cast a mild glare at Kane's retreating form before casting an only slightly less recriminating look in his brother's direction. "You two need a serious talking".

Undertaker turned away from the younger wrestler, once again caught off guard by her insightfulness without the benefit of actually being able to read his thoughts. He didn't speak knowing that there really wasn't anything he could say. It annoyed her Mark knew but he wasn't going to budge. Seeing she wasn't going to get anywhere Abeebah abandoned the phenom to his own thoughts. She wanted to find her siblings anyway and question them on exactly why they had left the locker room and essentially alone with the Undertaker. She returned the horsemen's locker room and taking a shower changed into her street clothes. Evan was the first to return to the locker room.

It was his idea for them to leave her with the Undertaker in the first place and he told his sister so honestly. However the youngest of the horsemen refused to inform his eldest sibling 'why' and even went so far as to tell her not to even venture to ask Brandon and Delia as she wouldn't find them. On one level Abeebah was proud of youngest brother's clever scheme and the fact that for the first time in a long time he was the ringleader in a plan but on another level Abeebah was royally pissed that the plan was set against her. Scowling she told Evan that she would be disappearing for the night as well and not to wait up. Abeebah then left, set on killing some time before she had to meet Kane and Undertaker at the appointed time.

Meanwhile Undertaker two had left the arena and went back to the hotel that Vince rented for the wrestlers to stay. Not many of the wrestlers had returned for the night but he only garnered miner looks as he made his way to his room his gym bag in hand. The phenom spotted Abeebah heading to the pool but said nothing sensing the youth's stinging irritation. She obviously wanted to be left alone and the deadman wasn't willing to test her hairline temper. He went to his room and occupied his time watching Raw and ignoring the play of emotions in the back of his mind. Much later Kane had arrived and Undertaker let him in without a word. His younger brother was dressed discreetly in long gray sweats. Kane's face was rapped in bandages.

Mark thought he looked like a mummy from one the old black and white fifties movies. However the younger Calloway's left hand was bare and Undertaker could see the scars standing out starkly against his pale skin. Not for the first time Mark felt quilt burn lacerations into his heart. The big red machine tilted his head in silent greeting and before walking over and sitting on the bed, letting his brother momentarily drown in his suffering. He still hadn't forgiven Mark and was determined to keep that grudge until he felt satisfied with a measure of revenge.

However Mark's dark mood was postponed when Abeebah arrived moments later a bland look on her face. Kane turned his attention from his brother to the slip of a woman who had captured his interest with her ability not only to sense his emotions but also his thoughts. Abeebah like the brothers was dressed discreetly yet stylishly in plain black pajama bottoms and navy blue wife beater. Her damp locks were pulled back into a loose braid that swung lazily behind her like an alley cat.

'Hello little one'. Wary irritation mingled with amusement, 'Hello big fella'. Under the bandages Glen's eyebrows shot up. This cat had claws. 'You're not afraid of me are you'? The crimson demon didn't know why but Abeebah's lack of motive or fear toward him intrigued him. Abeebah rolled her eyes and spoke allowed for Mark's benefit, "only a fool would not fear you and I am no fool by any stretch of the imagination". Catching on the phenom glanced her way before taking a seat next to his brother. "The real question is whether or not you trust us enough to sleep in our presence and have us in your mind". Abeebah crossed her arms under her breast watching the two giants through half lidded eyes. "What do you have in mind"?

Mark glanced at his younger brother before moving further up the bed so that he had to curl himself over to fit completely, "just to talk". The dark woman-child stared at the brothers. Many would call both of them simple monsters, Kane with his appetite for revenge and Undertaker with his ceaseless angst and thirst for destruction. But both were much more complex than anyone would ever know. Both were manipulative to a degree that she wasn't comfortable with and both were willing and able to do more their' fair share of havoc just because they could. Yet she trusted them both because she saw the men behind the monsters. She saw the gruff yet honorable friend in Mark and the gentle giant in Glen.

Abeebah tried to reconcile the two sets of contrasting personalities in her head. The eldest horsemen's nostrils flared wit an explosive breath. They were on her side for the moment rendering these points mot. There was no way to truly understand them and Abeebah had little reason to try when she had trouble understanding herself. So reluctantly the younger joined them on the bed which was almost too small for their' combined bulk. She lay in between them facing away from Mark and her face studiously focused on Glen's wrapped throat. The brothers curved their' prodigious forms around the little woman and relaxing as best they could. Against her will Abeebah relaxed as well and was sound asleep a few minutes later.

_Dream

* * *

_

_Mark opened his eyes and was surprised to __see that instead of the dark never ending plains of his own mind were not there. Instead he was greeted with the sight of a room made of ice and furnished in steel. Abeebah sat in a high winged back chair in the center of the room garbed in the white dress he was long familiar with. Mark didn't have to look down to know that he was dressed in black robes and his hair had turned to its natural flaming red color.__ "Mark", the big man turned only to see his brother standing a few feet away._

_Only his brother wasn't a fully grown man and instead of the masked face glaring down at him Mark stared down at Glen who some__how was transformed into his ten year old self baggy old hand me downs and all__The youngest Calloway had shrunk a good three feet with his once __very__ defined muscles becoming gangly limbs of a budding soon to be teenager and his once long luscious locks were now a curly mop on the top of his head. __Bemused and nostalgic the phenom quirked a miniscule smile at the now little red machine._

_Glen didn't smile back even as he joined his brother at the center of the room with Abeebah. __The young woman's cat like eyes roved over her surroundings before they fixed upon the brother's with an amused quirk of her brow__. "__I'm guessing this isn't either of your minds", she said dryly.__ Mark seated himself on the floor crossing his legs Indian style, "no". Glen remained standing, "no". The dark woman made a curious noise in the back of her throat as she looked around. "So this is my mind then, who ever thought I'd be so organized". __The two brother's glanced around in their' own assessment and found organized to be a rather fitting description. The few things that were in the room each had a space to which it meticulously occupied without a hint of clutter or misplacement. _

_It was disturbingly clean to the Undertaker who had been in the minds of many and none of them were this orderly. __"Every representation of a person's mind is unique according to the individual it inhabits but one thing all minds have in common is clutter__", he lectured automatically. Abeebah raised a dark brow, "Well I don't see any so what does that mean"? "You're focused", he explained, "So focused in fact that all your thoughts have a purpose, no stray thought, no wandering ideas nothing". Abeebah __frowned, "you're mind didn't have any stray thoughts". __"The mist".__ She gave an "__ahhh__", of understanding thinking about the occasional puff of air that blew past them when they dreamed together in his mind._

_Glen's mismatched eyes glanced between them not quite ready to contribute to the conversation. "Well I suppose it could be worse", Abeebah said trying to fill in the uncomfortable silence. "Yes it could be but I'm no expert__", shrugged Mark. Irritation with a hint of wariness invaded his senses. He didn't try to reassure her. "I could mean nothing considering you're still alive and sane", Glen finally spoke his voice still the same even though he had a child's body. 'Creepy', "__Alive yes, sane, well that I'm not so sure about", she informed him only half joking._

_Mark shot a glance toward his brother, he didn't think that Bearer would even educate his brother on the basics of mind magic. Seeing the look __Glen shrugged, "he liked to run his mouth", was his only explanation. His older brother made an agreeing noise in the back of his throat. "So any clues as to how we're connected cause we sure as hell don't have anything in common in here", Abeebah pointed to her temple. __"Maybe it's because we're all different", Glen suggested, "my mind is, chaotic, and there is stillness to both your minds". Abeebah frowned, "but Mark has a similar mind to me in terms of stillness". _

_"But different as day is to night in everything else", Mark agreed with his brother. "My mind is dark and seemingly endless with fields of ice while yours is cold but almost sterile in its stillness my darkness conceals and has a movement all its own". __Abeebah rolled her eyes, "very poetic dead man". Mark sent her a sly smile, "I like to think so". Glen nearly childishly gagged at the two of them. __"So bottom line, we have an idea but basically have no other way besides your friend to confirm if it's right or not", said Abeebah. __Mark grimaced, "yeah pretty much"._

_For a moment Abeebah said nothing. She just stared at the two brothers processing what little she knew and what question__s still had yet to be answered. Now that she thought about it all they could really do was speculate. 'But then again we've been waiting for answers for so long it's better than doing nothing'.__ The dark wrestler sighed, "Care to make anymore hypothesis while we're at it"? Both the Calloway brother's blinked at the especially long winded statement that came out of the seemingly tired __woman's mouth. "I think we're not going to find anything more tonight than we already have", Glen said hesitantly.__ Abeebah shrugged and relaxed into the high backed chair, "yeah, I'm all for the idea of sleep right now anyway".

* * *

__End dream_

The next few days found Abeebah getting closer to the two brothers. Inside the arenas where they worked they stayed away from each other for obvious reasons. Mainly both Mark and Glen's enemies would love to get their' hands on either of the big men weakness and the darkest horseman was established enough yet to be able to ward off so many. Abeebah went back to wrestling as a part of the four horsemen and the brothers went back to fighting in their' own matches, keeping the status of their' 'reconciliation' quiet. It really wasn't anybody else's business whether Kane and Taker were having family problems or not.

It never stopped the interviewers from asking but they the only answer they got was a threatening look from the phenom and a growl from the big read machine. For their' part the three younger horsemen got used to the Calloway addition to some of their daily routines. Mark even helped Evan with homework that Abeebah assigned him as he was homeschooled with their' constant moving. And despite their' rocky start both Kane and Brandon found a quiet companion in each other. They had a shared passion for books and would read and analyze the small collection Brandon had for hours.

Matilda Walker was old, not physically for years of magic and rituals had gifted the witch with a body of a thirty something year old. But mentally and spiritually Matilda was older than most and would do just about anything to entertain herself. So when Paul Bearer had called in a favor from her Matilda hadn't thought twice about granting the manipulative petty man what he wanted. She had no idea the fat bastard's favor included practically raising a twelve year old almost lifeless boy. The old witch wasn't moralistic by any stretch of the imagination and could account for every sin she ever committed against humankind and nature. But children were where she drew the line; never had she ever done wrong by a child and she took pride in that.

And then Paul, the sleaze that he was, brought her "deadman" as he called the green eyed boy back then. Oh how the near skeletal boy fit his name so perfectly with his pale skin and near dead eyes. Deadman rarely spoke and when he did it was a breath away from being a whisper. Worst of all was the compulsion charms she had sensed as soon as deadman entered her house. The fat bastard had turned the child into little more than his personal slave and nearly broke him in the most fundamental of ways.

And there was no way to break the charm without killing him. "Educate him", the pitiful excuse of a waste of space had said before leaving deadman with her. So she did, Matilda taught the boy as much as she could think of and more while dropping a few hints here and there to weaken Bearer's hold on deadman. Matilda had only hoped it was enough once the boy was out of her care. And here she was year's later finding out that it turned out that her plan worked only years after the fact. Deadman had broken ties with Bearer only a few months ago and then to top it off he wasn't the only child Bearer had turned into a slave. Deadman's little brother had been enslaved as well.

To make matters worse the boy had thought his brother dead years along with their' parents. And to make things even more complicated they were both bonded to the same girl and said girl was bonded to both of them in a trinity. And this type of trinity had nothing to do with Christianity and everything to do with the marriage or bonding of souls. "Stupid boy", she muttered fondly as she regarded the tome she had gone to great lengths to retrieve in order to solve her former pupil's dilemma. Matrimonium **Consisto** Animus was a very exotic, very rare account to come by. It had taken Matilda calling in a few favors and flat out threatening just to borrow it.

Why? Because it was the only tome ever written that had a full and detailed account on trinity soul bound matrimony in the last few thousand years. Matilda snorted it was ridiculously difficult to find out anything these days without setting off some kind of red alert with one cult or another. Sitting behind her opulent eighteenth century desk Matilda Opened the volume and methodically translated the Latinized document to English in her head. It took only two hours to read the entire thing and by the time she was finished Matilda was ready to laugh a lung out. Deadman had gotten himself into a truly interesting situation. Without hesitation the old witch picked, she had a few calls to make before she talked to her former pupil again.

In Boston Massachusetts Glen, Mark, and Abeebah had gone out to lunch together. The WWF had been there for the better part of a week and were headed to Cambridge the following week. So while preparation for all the WWF's equipment to be moved were being made all the wrestlers enjoyed a few days off. Abeebah and her two 'friends' were having a meal in a small out of the way coffee shop near the bay. It was a quiet affair with all three of them dressed inconspicuously so as not to draw attention to themselves even though the Calloway brothers' stature, Kane's bandaged face and Abeebah's impressive scar garnered the occasional look anyway.

And then one of the waiter's called out, "Is there someone here that goes by Deadman". Abeebah raised an eyebrow, "do I even want to know"? "Matilda", was all Mark said standing to his feet and taking the call. Abeebah shook her head and turned her attention back to her clam strips. Glen sat across from her and watched his brother's visage as he spoke to the old witch that was supposed to have the answers to their' mysterious connection. Per usual his features were immobile even though Glen could feel the interest and annoyance waft off his older brother. 'What do you think they're say'n'?

He didn't even glance Abeebah's way now long used to her lilting voice floating inside his head. It was much more pleasant than the utter emptiness that he had grown used to over the years. 'He's annoyed so whatever it is can't be good'. An affirming tug at the back of their' minds told them that the deadman could sense their' silent conversation. Before they could speculate on it any further Mark returned and threw down a few bills on the table, "we're going to New Orleans". Both of them were incredulous, "Now"? The phenom took hold of Abeebah's hand without thought and pulled her to her feet. Kane rose as well and moved to follow them out the door.

"The faster we get there the faster we can get to Cambridge without McMahon noticing we were even unaccounted for", Mark said letting go of her hand as they made their' way back to the hotel. "I'll get us tickets, be ready when I call", he drawled once they had arrived. Abeebah scowled at Kane's older brother but then left to pack and leave a note for her siblings. The big red machine followed Mark to their' now shared room where Mark preceded to place a call to the local Airport while packing a few of his belongs at the same time. Glen did the same, the rest of their' possessions would be left for the PR committee to take care of.

And hour later the three of them were on a plane to New York where they would get off and take another plane to New Orleans a few hours later. Undertaker, Kane, and Morte arrived in New Orleans early the next morning. Tiredly the elder Calloway hailed a cab and gave directions to the driver to Matilda's residence. As soon as they arrived Abeebah was taken aback by the finery of the old French manor. "Now remember two things", Mark glanced back and forth between Glen's masked face and Abeebah's scared one, "names have power here so don't call each other by ya' real ones and play nice, comprende"? Both of them rolled their' eyes.

They walked up to the prominent front doors and without having to knock the door opened and without hesitation Undertaker walked inside. His little brother and Abeebah followed behind warily. She had expected it to be dark creepy even under the veneer of charm and opulence but there were no unexplained dark corners or seemingly constant creeks that would mark of a supernatural house. Instead Matilda's house seemed to be a respectable property that had all the warm colors the French quarter. Undertaker led them to a study where a small group of people were there waiting for them. As soon as they entered the petite woman stood from her seat behind the solid oak desk to greet them.

True to his own advice the deadman was polite and gave the woman Abeebah and Glen's ring names instead of their real names. Matilda was younger than what Abeebah expected considering she according to Mark practically raised him but Abeebah wasn't here to judge. However it was hard to not speculate with the woman's waist length dark blond hair and full youthful face. The others were introduced in the same courteous fashion as she and Glen if a little bit less curt.

Apparently their' situation needed a little more help than expected. The gray eyed witch straightened her spine, "I've invited the Masters Geduld, Aansien, Wysheid, and the Mistresses Ar, and Terra in order to assist in solving your dilemma". Undertaker inclined his head in a ghost of a bow and replied in the same formal way. "Our sincerest thanks to all of you". 'What the hell', it was almost impossible not to smile when she heard Kane echoing her sentiment mentally. Matilda waved her hand and their' bags disappeared and lavish chairs appeared behind each of them.

Abeebah and Kane stiffened not used to such easy show of magic the former not at all. However seeing Mark easily take a seat along with the others put them at enough ease to do the same. "Now that we are all accommodated I will tell you exactly what is going on". Had Matilda any glasses Abeebah was sure that she would be cleaning them. "First, deadman do you remember when you first came to me just how reliant you were on Paul Bearer". "Yes", Kane didn't even flinch as the glacial fury of his brother doused some of the burning sensation of his constant rage.

"Bearer is not the most adept of magician but if there was one art he was master of it was compulsion", Matilda said ignoring Undertaker's tone. Shock and fury turned Mark's feature's ugly and his already natural pallor a sickly chalk white. Kane too was still, not just physically but mentally as well, frightening Abeebah more than she cared to admit. "What did he do", she asked the witch trying to distract herself. The gray eyed witch looked the slightest more grave, "all he did was suggest, but a suggestion can be a whisper in someone's ear or a scream in someone's head". "The compulsion placed on these two was the later to an extreme that broke them in such a way their' powers manifested themselves in the most extreme way possible".

Matilda tilted her head toward the younger of the two Calloways, "Kane still has whatever compulsion Bearer put in him and Deadman is experiencing it through the bond". Abeebah nodded slowly she had a very good idea on what compulsion the fat bastard put on the big red machine, "then why it isn't affecting me"? Master Wysheid spoke up as Matilda nodded toward him, "that has everything to do with your power Princess Morte, you are an elemental".

"Elementals are just as they sound beings sensitive to nature, some even have minuscule control over an element but what you three are is legendary among us Elementals". The eldest horseman was almost distracted by the title the man attached to her ring name. "Why does something tell me I'm going to regret even asking what's so special about us", Abeebah asked. Waking up from his livid stupor Mark sent his dark companion a look.

Abeebah ignored him in favor of boring holes in the priest's head with her eyes. Almost submissively Wysheid dropped his eyes, "Not only are you three each bi-elementally gifted you are a trinity". 'A what', Abeebah repeated Glen's question allowed without missing a beat. "Soul bonded, your souls are mated for lack of a better term", this time Ar spoke. "And you are sensitive toward two elements you might even be able to control them", said Terra. Rubbing her temples the dark wrestler sighed, "right, now how does that stop me from becoming like them", she pointed to the brothers.

Neither Mark nor Glen was particularly insulted knowing the petite woman was just as frustrated as they were. "I can detect an elemental's infinity and one of your elements is metal", Geduld explained, "the other is ice the combination of these two elements creates an almost unnaturally focused individual". 'No stray thoughts'. "So Bearer can't influence her"? Mark sounded almost hopeful. Matilda shook her head, "not the way he got to you two it'd be like throwing a pebble at fort Knox". Abeebah narrowed her eyes, "what's the catch".

Matilda looked mildly put off, "I can't take the compulsion off without probably doing more damage, when Deadman was under compulsion years ago I tried to plant distrust against Bearer in the hopes he could break out of it himself". "Instead the compulsion stayed until whatever he specified was done", Mark finished bitterly. The witch now looked stern, "you aren't the first and most definitely aren't going to be the last so long as he exists". Abeebah was sure that she never wanted to kill someone so badly. The dirty blond cleared her throat, "That being said it brings us to the next point the three of you are broken in a way that no human being could ever survive alone".

"That is why your bond is so strong and revered by Elementals", Ar continued, "you are royalty among our kind for such strength and sensitivity of your nature is held in the highest esteem". The priest looked uncomfortably at each other, "but your bond is incomplete", the last of the priest Aansien explained finally. Abruptly Abeebah's thought process ground to a halt in order not to go on to the next forgone conclusion. "Deadman, Kane, Morte, your souls and minds are mated but your bodies are not", Matilda informed them not in the least bit balked by the idea of provoking their' ire.

For a moment none of them moved, each with their' own thoughts and fears coming to the forefront of their' minds. 'Is there no other way', asked Glen and faithfully Abeebah repeated his question out loud. Matilda genuinely looked apologetic, "I'm afraid not, it might take years for it to finally deteriorate completely but when it does the bond will snap and the backlash will in all likelihood kill all of you". Then Mark spoke, "can you give us a minute"? The priest stood to their' feet and bowed, "we must prepare your marriage bed for the proper blessings and protection spells be ready by tonight your majesties", Aansien said sternly but not unkindly. Matilda stood to her feet as well, "you know where your room is Mark theirs' is across from yours so rest up".

The small entourage left the study leaving the three of them alone. "Kane". 'I don't care either way, I fear nothing', thought Glen knowing that Abeebah would translate. 'Everyone fears something', she thought back Abeebah however did relay to the phenom what his brother said. "What about you"? "I want to live", she replied simply. The Texan gave her a sad half smile, "me too girly me too". Once again Undertaker stood and led them through the manor. He led them up the stairs and to the second floor where there were many ornate doors. The demon of death valley silently indicated the rooms across from his. They were all glad to have separate rooms even for a little while.

All of them needed time to process what had just occurred and the answers they had just received. None of them could really find very much rest as they lay in their' beds thinking about what they were going to have to do to survive. Mark wasn't too concerned about the having sex requirement of the deal as he was the having sex with his brother and closest thing he had to a sister part. And then there was the compulsion issue, would the bond stop the compulsion or would it only strengthen it. Would he and his brother end up killing each other one day? All these questions Matilda didn't answer and most likely had no answer for him made Mark angry and afraid all at the same time. Kane too lay in his bed confused and betrayed on many levels.

The big red machine knew that Bearer had been using him, knew that that he was being manipulated. But never ever had he thought that his feelings were not his own. And then there was Bearer's manipulation of his brother, there was no doubt now that Undertaker wasn't completely to blame for his suffering. And most likely, like so many times before the fat bastard twisted his words and veiled his intentions until his weave had already been spun and Mark already caught in his trap. Yet Kane could not stop hating him, could not completely undue years of reinforcement and now that he knew it compulsion from dictated what he thought. Glen chuckled darkly; this was the hell he found himself in with no way out.

Hours later the sun had set much to the brothers' and Abeebah's wary chagrin and they reluctantly rose from their' beds. Each of them found a robe outside their' door with archaic symbols stitched into the fabric and a note telling them to go to the basement. Gritting her teeth Abeebah changed into the robe and did as the note instructed while the Calloway brothers lagged behind. The priest had drawn a gold multilayered circle around a king sized bed shrouded in black raw silk. They were chanting in some forgotten language that Abeebah didn't understand. Then Ar looked up, "Enter princess Morte beloved of metal and frost". Knowing better than to question the woman, Abeebah got into the bed.

Abeebah backed herself up against the headboard of the bed as darkness fell around her. She could still hear the chanting of the pagan priest filtered through the barrier of the heavy silk drapes surrounding her 'marriage bed'. She was glad they weren't able to see her but it did little to stop the hammering of her heart against her ribcage. Drawing the dark sheets up to cover her naked breast Abeebah tried to calm down. 'It shouldn't be such a big deal', she scowled herself, 'you're only sleeping with them and it isn't like the marriage will really mean anything'.

It was a lie and Abeebah knew it. Against her will both Glen and Mark earned a place in her heart and a measure of trust that she rarely gave anyone. The idea that she trusted them enough to let them to do 'this' was what had Abeebah spooked. She barely knew either of them and what she did know was not endearing on any level. 'Really Abeebah, I'm hurt'. Kane's smokey voice echoed through her mind in a comforting caress. The dark skinned women-child sighed at the teasing yet truthful feeling she was getting from the mentally disturbed young man.

'Don't be', she replied, 'I'm here aren't I'. 'Against you're will', he echoed her earlier thought. Visibly Abeebah winced, sometimes she forgot that Kane didn't distance himself from his emotions like she and Undertaker did. 'Remember when I said that everyone has a fear', a wave of agreement washed over her, 'well this is mine, I fear intimacy'. A "what" worthy of the rattle snake himself surged across their' link like a livewire. Once again Abeebah sighed, 'I'm one of those 'chaste' virgins, never been kissed, had a boyfriend, or fooled around, happy now'?

'So you nev-'. 'No', Abeebah interrupted him not wanted to hear what he had in mind. She didn't want to think about such things considering what was going to occur. She was surprised when she didn't feel amusement seep into her mind and instead sympathy embraced her. 'Me either'. Abeebah wasn't surprised but thanked him for admitting it anyway, 'Guess the old man will be teaching us both tonight'. A double wave of reassurance blanketed her. Abeebah bowed her head and enjoyed the comfort that was slowly seeping into her skin whiled it lasted.

She didn't even look up as the brothers drew back the curtains so they could enter. The bed dipped under their' combined weight as both Mark and Glen crawled inside. The curtains fell shut behind them and both removed the robes they were given earlier. Abeebah didn't look up. Mark wasn't self-conscious at all as he shed his robe knowing that his body was attractive scars from years of physical labor and all. Glen removed his mask with shaking hands feeling the heavy leather of the straps give under his deft hands the dark haired young man bowed his head reflexively. Mark and Abeebah looked at him feeling Glen's apprehension. The older brother looked at their' 'bride' questioningly.

Abeebah's voice for the first time in a long time trembled with emotion, "he said that if I can face my fears than so could he". "You're nervous about this"? Like Glen Abeebah ducked her head, "I'm terrified of this", she admitted softly. He looked back and forth between the two of them not really sure how to reassure either of them. This was new territory for the phenom too; he had slept with experienced partners but never ones so new to idea of intimacy let alone sex.

Thinking for a moment Mark reached out to his brother's face and ran his fingertips along Glen's jaw. He flinched but didn't move away from his brother's touch as Mark continued to map out his features by hand. The slightly older man's fingertips danced lightly over the intricate web of scars across his brother's face taking in each one as if it were the finest piece of art displayed in a museum. Glen exhaled shakily and raised his head to look his brother in the eye. Mark watched his features become revealed to him silently.

His skin was even paler than Mark, mismatched eyes slightly sunken in his skull and barely noticeable scars adding a rugged edge to his otherwise unmolested features. Mark could only see the beauty of his brother's soul burning in his gaze. Abeebah watched them through the thick fall of her hair, transfixed by the gentleness one of her soon to be lovers' was displaying and the sudden docility of the other. Mark's usually dead stare was alight with slightest bit of admiration as he looked upon his brother's scared visage.

Glen stared back, confused as to why he felt Mark's approbation rather than his disgust. The older man quirked a half smile at Glen's obvious confusion, "Beautiful". He sucked in a sharp breath and looked toward Abeebah. The dark brawler still clutched the sheet to her naked form even as she watched them. Like Mark there was no disgust in her fathomless wine eyes, only curiosity and the slightest bit of approval. 'He's right you know you are beautiful'. Glen felt tears of relief well behind his eyes but he held them back. He would not them to fall even now, where there were no secrets between them.

Turning his attention back to Mark Glen smiled almost mischievously at him before grasping the sheets at Abeebah's feet and once again meeting the woman-child's gaze. Mark did the same, and together the brothers tugged the sheets down their' bride's nude form. They could both feel her anxious determination as it inched away from her grasp. Abeebah raised her chin determined to face this knowing she wasn't alone. Finally the flimsy clothe was lowered to reveal her unclad body to the curious eyes of Mark and Glen. Mark wondered if such a petite woman could handle both of them.

Darkly bronzed skin littered with the occasional scar and slight discoloration from previously healed injury met their eyes. Mark's jade gaze zeroed in on how toned Abeebah's muscles made her appear more masculine without actually losing any of the curves that most definitely spoke of her being a woman. Glen was more occupied with the scars that stood out in Abeebah's otherwise dark skin. Each of them told a story similar to his own, that of endless pain and anger.

There was a fairly large burn mark on her left shoulder, slash marks where belt buckles tore away flesh on her hip, and even the occasional scar from where she had been shot at one time or another. Though numerous the blemishes Abeebah carried were nowhere as severe as Glen. Still he found them fascinating enough for a closer inspection. The big man crawled up Abeebah's body, hyper aware of the almost invisible tremor quaking her sturdy form. Mark watched his progress both pleased and surprised that Glen was taking the initiative.

It seemed that years without human contact had not stifled his need to touch and be touched. And Glen did so, mindful of how uncomfortable making Abeebah but too interested in her scars to really care. Like his brother Glen traced each scar gently with his fingertips, mentally cataloguing between the ones he recognized and ones he didn't. Mark moved alongside of him watching but making no move to join in his little brother's exploration. Abeebah was grateful. Glen's 'almost touching' was already wreaking havoc on her senses.

Glen's steel under raw silk flesh rubbed against her own as his musky scent filled Abeebah's nostrils. It was intoxicating on a very primal level. She didn't know if she could handle them both quite yet. Glen slowly made his way up Abeebah's body becoming bolder as he felt her reactions through their' link. Yes, she was afraid as he but also just as curious. Each touch alighted an almost electrical current between them and causing a pool of heat to well in their' stomachs.

Then Mark placed a hand on his brother's shoulder stopping just short of kissing her and stroked Abeebah's hair reassuringly with the other. It was becoming almost impossible for Abeebah and Glen to breathe. Then he kissed Glen, coaxing the younger man's lips to upon under his. It didn't take long for Glen's passionate nature to take over causing him to turn the gentle exploration into a fierce meeting of tongue and teeth. It didn't matter because they both were hardly gentle beings on any level. This was natural to both of them far too used to intensity of one way or another.

But for the oldest horsemen this was new on a frightening point. Abeebah could feel every wave of pleasure crash into her taxed senses almost sending her reeling with how much these two could 'feel'. She closed her eyes hoping that by doing so would help her to shut out some of the intoxicating pleasure flooding her senses. It only made it worse. And then Glen's lips claimed hers, hot and fierce, teaching her passion she never knew. Abeebah had to tilt her head back as he plundered her mouth ruthlessly taking possession of her. The brothers then preceded on to give their' bride an experience she would never forget.

They froze stuck in a euphoric high that none of them had ever experienced. And then the world came crashing right back down taking them with it. Senses still buzzing from the overwhelming experience of being taken Abeebah's eyes were tightly shut as she felt the thunderous heartbeats echoing against her back and a hot breath still upon her breast. Gasping for air, Mark, Glen, and Abeebah fell sideways and into the mattress bodies still intertwined. They were all too tired to really care. Rapped around each other they didn't even notice black lines drawing themselves around their' ankles.

A/N: NC-17 version is on http://celeb. 


	6. Set up

A/N: Enjoy my fellow readers and reveiwers. I didn't make it as long as I usually do but I hope it's still up to snuff. Send plenty reveiws. -Rei

* * *

Undertaker woke up to the scent of cherries and soap tickling his nostrils and something weighing down his chest. Softened light filtered through the heavy fabric that surrounded them. His body ached in a familiar way but for the life of him the deadman couldn't remember bedding anyone the night before. Opening his eyes Undertaker's gaze immediately focused on the black canopy hanging above him and the last few hours came rushing back to him. Eyes wide Undertaker looked down.

And sure enough, Morte lay naked and coddled half on top of him. Kane lay on his side behind her, his head pillowed on his brother's shoulder and his unscarred arm slung across them both. It was perhaps the strangest sight he had ever seen and yet so right that he couldn't bring himself to move. He Mark Calloway had slept with his brother and the closest thing he ever had to a sister. Both of them had been virgins the night before. Undertaker thought perhaps that he should feel some kind of quilt and disgust at what he had done but he didn't. Then Abeebah groaned and Mark couldn't help the half smirk that curled his lips as he suddenly felt the young woman's mind came into consciousness.

"That really happened didn't it", she asked him without opening her eyes. "Yeah", Curious the red haired Texan allowed Abeebah's feeling to wash over him. "You don't regret what we did", he stated unnecessarily. The aching throughout her body registered satisfyingly across their' link, "no", she agreed, "I don't". Finally opening her tawny eyes Abeebah looked up at him. "I never knew it could be like that", the 'thank you' was left unsaid because there was little need of words between them. Unconsciously he tucked a downy lock behind her ear. "You're different princess". Abeebah stretched along his side with a jaw cracking yawn, "we all are old man", she huffed with an amused smile.

Mark raised an eyebrow finally noticing that his brother was too awake but like him had not dined to move. His mismatched eyes were open and watching the tender display between his two lovers with quiet contentment. It was a far cry from the broken and aggressive being that had entered the WWF. He said the words that none of them wanted to hear, 'Tell him that we should get up soon'. The elder Calloway blinked in surprised and interrupted Abeebah before she could translate. "I can hear him". Two sets of eyes locked on to his. They were just as surprised as he. 'Side affect'? "Side affect", the dead man and eldest horsemen agreed softly. They all fell quiet, relaxing in each other's company.

After a few moments of silence Kane spoke again, 'we can't stay here forever', Undertaker quirked a sad smile similar to Abeebah's, "its tempting isn't", he asked them both. Neither his brother nor the little woman sandwiched between them responded. Their silence was answer enough. They didn't want to shrug back on their' defenses either. None of them wanted to go back to hiding the human beings behind the monsters. However, a cruel world awaited them outside their' marriage bed. None of them could afford to be seen as weak and none of them would ever be completely comfortable acknowledging that part of themselves publicly.

In this place they had found a safe haven in which they could be more than the monsters the world had made of them. Unspoken though it was they all agreed that what happened last night was to be kept secret that it was theirs' and no one else's. Outside of here betrayal and pain would probably be a constant between them as Bearer's parting gift controlled Kane and his brother. Abeebah would do what was best for her and not side with either of them. The Calloways knew she may know their' hearts and minds but she was having a next to impossible time dealing with her own.

Sighing Mark sat up and helped his two lovers do the same. And then Kane caught a glimpse of Abeebah's left ankle. Grasping the appendage he pulled it up so that they could all see the chain tattoo that was wrapped around it. "Da hell", Abeebah gazed along with the brothers at the now marking her previously bare ankle. None of them even bothered to acknowledge that they were all still completely naked. Kane traced each link with his forefinger, 'the witch didn't say anything about this'. "We'll have to ask her", the brothers were surprised to hear a growl enter the young woman's voice.

Uncaring she shrugged, "You two are a bad influence". Retreating from the younger Calloway's touch Abeebah reached for her robe only to notice tattoos on her lovers' left ankles mirroring her own. "She definitely didn't say anything about this". Mark shrugged there was no point in worrying about it until they had to. The three of them put on their' robes with varying noises of disgust as the smell and itch of sweat and sex registered in their' minds. The priest and Matilda were nowhere to be seen so they went to their' bathrooms to wash off the remnants of the night before.

After they were all clean and dressed Mark then guided them to the kitchen where his former mentor was waiting with Ar. They each gave their' own variation of a polite greeting and sat down at the table where there was a healthy bounty of breakfast waiting for them. Kane lifted his mask just enough to eat small bites as he listened to his brother begin to question the witch. "Our bond has changed; there are chain tattoos on our ankles, are these typical"? The blond looked pointedly at the priest at her side. Ar bowed her dark head, "yes my prince you will find these changes are very much natural, the chain tattoo is a physical representation of your bond much like a wedding ring, and your bond marks both how they appear and where they are unique to you three alone".

"As for the changes", Matilda continued, "you'll take on more of each others' personality traits, balancing each other out". 'How long will the bond last', Undertaker spoke for his brother this time seeing as Abeebah was eating a piece of fruit. "For as long as your souls exist, not even death can undo it", Ar said. 'Shit', it was a universal thought that resounded through the bond. All of them had suspected that this might happen but none of them thought it would be true. "What about the compulsion", Abeebah finally asked trying to shake the mild case of shock at being blindsided. The blond witch shrugged helplessly, "either Kane breaks out of it somehow or he falls prey to it it's as simple as that".

"And will we fall prey to it because of our personalities blending", Mark asked with a quirked lip. Abeebah and Glen stared at him, 'that's just creepy'. The deadman grimaced soundlessly in agreement. "The possibility is there but considering your bride's elements may just be enough to break it". 'Or just delay the inevitable', Kane mused coldly. 'None of that, we can be realistic later right now we've already go too much on our plate', thought Abeebah irritated with the whole situation. Glen grunted without looking up from the sandwich he was currently wolfing down. "Does anything else needs to be brought to our attention", asked Mark.

Matilda nodded, "you must be careful from now on we don't know how this might affect your powers in the long run not to mention I have a sinking suspicion that Paul hasn't given up yet especially since he was able to make you believe your brother was dead for twenty years". Deadman all but growled in agreement. Ar stood to her feet and bowing at the waist handed him a manila envelope. "A bonding gift from myself and the other elementals", she explained at deadman's quizzical look.

Opening the envelope the demon of Death Valley read the document that was inside and was shocked into stillness. The darkest horseman stood to read over her bondmate's shoulder and too was shocked into stillness. Kane regarded them both with raised brows under his mask, 'what'? 'They gave us-', Abeebah started, 'land', Mark finished, 'they gave us a couple hundred acres of death valley. The big red machine stiffened, 'you're serious'. 'Dead serious, pardon the pun', replied Abeebah retaking her seat.

Feelings flowed through their' link like a river raging rapids of old hurts and anger. Imperceptibly Mark's grip on the document tightened. "The land is to do with what you will your highnesses and if you ever have need of the elementals our contact information is in there as well", Ar said straightening her spine with a nod toward Matilda. "Now I must take my leave, thank you for your invitation Matilda", and without another word the priest left. The trinity didn't even acknowledge the woman's exit. Replacing the document in the envelope Mark put it in his pocket and forcefully shoved twenty years of aguish and confusion into the back of his mind.

He watched as Abeebah scooted closer to his little brother to comfort him even as Glen pulled his mask back to its proper place. She didn't touch him just sat by as the chestnut haired man gathered himself under the sudden onslaught of old wounds being reopened. Knowing she was there was comfort enough. Matilda ignored the bi-play knowing that her observations wouldn't be appreciated. Clearing her throat she turned her attention to her former pupil.

"What will you do now"? Chaotic green eyes met her steel gaze, "we'll live", 'that's all we really can do', he added silently. Abeebah shot him an ironic smile. Yes that was all they really could do. A few hours later the three of them were on their' way to Cambridge minds and hearts awhirl with conflicting thoughts and emotions. And it wasn't until they arrived the next morning that they all were able to put what happened in the back of their' minds.

Abeebah's siblings were at the hotel waiting for them. She and Mark pretty much told them that they were bonded for life but left out that the bond wasn't complete before they went to Matilda's. They also mentioned the compulsion but didn't go in depth about it, just told them to be careful especially around them if they started acting strangely. Delia had raised an eyebrow and succulently informed them that there was no such thing as normal when it came to them. And then she shrunk under their' combined glares. The following weeks were busy ones as the WWF was constantly on the move doing signing sessions and photo shoots not to mention fighting Sunday, Monday, and Friday.

As a result neither the horsemen nor the Calloway brother's really acknowledged the passage of time. Even as Brandon qualified for the royal rumble and the brothers slowly but surely fell back into their' solitary habits did they even really notice that the night Undertaker was to face HBK was fast in coming. Delia and Evan kept a close eye on their' eldest sibling as she grew tenser and tenser as Mark and Glen slowly grew apart. The big red machine and the deadman had stopped talking to each other and avoided the horsemen as well. It got so bad that Abeebah began making plans with her youngest sibling to buy a house once they earned enough money.

Brandon and Delia agreed with the plan if only to keep their' sister distracted from the drama leading up to the royal rumble. Brandon thought about confronting Undertaker and Kane about their' ignorance of his sister's pain because of their' silent withdrawal. However one amber eyed glare from Abeebah was all it took for him to reconsider. The darkest horseman would retaliate with unparalleled brutality if he or anyone else for that matter interfered. The hazel eyed Johns would never kill her siblings but she wasn't against doing them serious harm if it suited her mood. And that was another change that Brandon noted, Abeebah was usually almost unnaturally distant emotion-wise.

But now she snapped more had fits of melancholy but she also smiled truly, and laughed more than she had ever done. The change was almost frightening as it was a relieving. None of the horsemen really knew what to make of their' sister's transformation and so did nothing but go on with their' carriers in the WWF. January eighteenth came sooner than Brandon or any of the horsemen expected. And everyone was preparing for the royal rumble. Commissioner Slaughter had even gotten Evan to help with some last minute organizing duties. Abeebah wasn't even in San Jose because she didn't have a match until the following week and instead head gone to check out some houses in a quiet little fishing town in Maryland.

They all knew the real reason why she had left but none of them voiced it. Delia stayed and helped her elder brother prepare for his royal rumble debut, occasionally smack him upside the head every time he got too jittery. Undertaker was getting ready for his own royal rumble match though he wasn't entered in the free for all. No he was set to retrieve what was rightfully his from the loud mouthed punk who had stolen from him on more than one occasion. Deadman planned on paying the boy back in blood sweat and tears.

Seething anger boiled in his gut and he was helpless to stop it, further blinding him to all else including his bond to Abeebah and Glen. It was what blinded him to the fury answering his own along with betrayal coming off his younger brother in waves. He didn't even feel Abeebah shouting at him in the back of his mind. And his distance was all Paul Bearer needed to get to Kane. The overbearing manipulator had been watching from the shadows surprised that the two brothers had allied themselves to each other but not displeased by it.

It would make Undertaker's demise all the sweeter. It was easy enough to find Kane as he stood alone in the shadows of San Jose arena his dark head bowed. "Well there you are son, learn ya lesson yet"? The big red machine tensed his entire body locking up in anger. Silently he wondered if he could get his entire hand around the bulbous head of his supposed father. Paul smiled sleazily at him and Kane wanted nothing more than to put his question to practice yet for some inexplicable reason he couldn't do it. "He's abandoned you again hasn't he", there was no need to question who 'he' was, "abandoned you for what? A belt"? If it were even possible the dark haired demon became even stiffer.

'He's lying', the big red machine repeated to himself over and over in his head, 'he has to be'. The bug-eyed man circled around the big man like the vulture he was, assessing, judging. "Ah bet he was real nice ta ya, real brotherly and all that", the older man sounded disgusted. "But he's been ignoring ya lately hasn't he". It wasn't a question. 'Shut up', "Now all he can think about is that belt isn't it", 'Shut up', "He was just using you and once he's done he'll throw ya away", 'SHUT UP'! Faster than Bearer could blink Kane was in his face breathing heavily with rage as the last few months played behind mismatched eyes.

And like he had done when he had woken to find out his parents were dead and he alone Kane denied it screamed in his mind it wasn't true. But he was wrong before and had paid twenty years of his life because of it. Icy pain shot up his spine, constricting his lungs, and freezing his heart. He couldn't afford being wrong again; his heart couldn't take the agony. So Kane ignored the screaming in the back of his mind, telling him not to listen, ignored the fact that that Bearer was using him too, ignored the fact that he knew this was a compulsion. He just didn't want to hurt anymore. In her hotel room in Maryland Abeebah cursed vilely as Kane's thoughts filtered into her head. He was going to betray them. 'Wait a minute, us, since when were there an us'?

Abeebah shook her head. Kane was going to betray Undertaker and it would be none of her business they were not hers to protect. The excuse was hollow and Abeebah knew it. What the three of them shared defied words even though they chose not to acknowledge it Abeebah thought all of them would always know it was there. 'But noooo', she thought grasping at the telephone to call Brandon, 'Kane just had to go doubtful on my ass and Bearer the manipulative bastard just had to fuck with what is mine'. And with Undertaker ignoring the link it was impossible for her to warn him especially since he wouldn't listen without constantly be beaten over the head with the fact that it was happening.

Picking up the receiver she dialed her brother's hotel room number with a deft hand and balled the other in hopes of calming down. "Hey Beebs", the darkest horseman furrowed her brow at hearing her sister's voice. "Where's Brandon"? "Busy being a nervous wreck", Delia's tone was dry, "what's up"? For a moment Abeebah considered lying but sighed, she wouldn't be able to live with herself she did that. Hopefully her younger sibling's appetite for 'making things interesting' would take a back seat. "Shit just got real" (a/n: sorry guys couldn't resist).

Even though Abeebah couldn't see her sister's expression she was sure that Delia was biting her lip in excitement. The gesture didn't bode well for anyone's sanity but desperate times called for desperate measures. "Who's the target"? Again Abeebah considered not telling Delia anything lest she do something stupid. Namely writing a check her ass couldn't cash. It wouldn't be the first time. But the situation called for Abeebah to trust Delia not to and sighing the eldest Johns decided that was what she was going to do.

Brandon was useless when he was on pines and needles. "Paul Bearer", Abeebah dragged the name from her throat reluctantly. Not out of any sense of well being for the asshole who she blamed the entire situation she found herself in but for Delia's safety. "Cool, I'll get it done", Delia said. Abeebah could just imagine the evil grin that was on her sister's beautiful face, "goodnight then". Delia laughs, "aren't cha gonna tell me ta be careful". A Mona-Lisa smile tugged at Abeebah's lips. "Would you listen"? The answer was immediate, "no".

A choked laugh issued from Abeebah's lips before she could stop herself, "behave yourself Del". "Of course not Beebs, of course not". Delia hung up the phone. She glanced over at the open door of the bathroom where Brandon was keeled over and throwing up into the toilet boll. "I don't understand why you've got your panties all in a wad". The elder horseman didn't even glance in her direction as he finally heaved out the last of his breakfast. Dragging himself up Brandon flushed the toilet and moved to the sink to splash cool water on his face.

He had heard the entire conversation though he was in no shape to contribute. This endeavor would be Delia's own as Evan was too busy at the arena and he was all but out of commission due to anxiety. "Don't screw around Delia; this isn't the type of game you usually play". Brandon stared at his pale reflection in the mirror trying to shake off the sudden case of stage fright. Delia said nothing, knowing that her brother didn't doubt her ability to wreak havoc on any target but also warning her that this particular plaything Abeebah threw her wasn't normal.

He wouldn't just outright tell her to be careful but it was still a warning. Delia grunted and left without a backwards glance. They would see each other at the arena. The caramel skinned beauty arrived at the San Jose arena shortly therefore after, careful to avoid the already gathering crowd and most of the backstage crew. She even ran into Undertaker but didn't bother to speak to him because he was ignoring everything else around him. The slightly insane girl could admit to herself that the way his green eyes stared with utter emptiness was creepy. Finding Paul was harder than she thought necessary but found him she did.

In Kane's locker room the obese red faced smug bastard was talking trash to the big red machine. The second youngest horseman managed to crack open the door without either male noticing her. And Delia couldn't believe her eyes, she couldn't claim to really know Kane but the mammoth of a man who towered over Bearer was being dressed down like a toddler. It was sickening, it was wrong, but most of all it was telling. Delia had seen personality similarities between Undertaker and Abeebah but now she could see the similarities between Abeebah and Kane.

She tried to shake the image of a young yet stoic Abeebah being scolded by one or both of their' parents out of her head. She had a job to do and reminiscing wasn't going to get it done. Plus Delia didn't want to sink deeper into the past where she couldn't hide from the living nightmare. Backing away slowly the young wrestler furiously began to think of a plan to somehow get the fat bastard alone. Kane was obviously under Bearer's control and would sooner choke the life out of Delia rather than help her. 'Beebs always did know how to pick a bad situation to get herself caught up in', Delia though sardonically.


	7. Desperate times desperate measures

A/N: It took lots of coffee to write this one. I had all the ideas stuck in my head for days and no time to write it down and when I did have time I was too tired to write. But since it kept bugging me I finally pulled up a chair made lots of coffee and bought a couple shots of expresso and typed like no ones business. Anyway enjoy and send plenty reveiws because it is my personal opinion that I don't get enough of them for this fic. -Rei

* * *

Kane did his best to ignore his father's gloating face as he bore holes with his mismatched gaze at the point just beyond the man's shoulder. As much as he hated to admit it Kane missed Paul almost as much as he hated him. The obese manipulator was all he knew for the better part of twenty years of his life and that kind of contact could not be undone by the measly progress he had with his brother and their' quasi wife. "Now is the time of our revenge son tonight Taker shall feel the sting of betrayal just a surely as he betrayed us". Like so many times before Kane ignored Bearer, turning his attention inward where the fires of his hatred had resumed its all consuming state. It seared his insides charring what was left of his already almost pitch black heart.

He was a fool to trust Mark; he was a fool to trust Abeebah when all anyone would ever want was to use him. Under his mask Kane smiled grimly, he couldn't trust anyone, and why should he, he was a monster. 'Have you lost your fucking mind', a mental shriek worthy of a banshee nearly brought the big man to his knees. Abeebah was pacing in her hotel room, too far gone to realize that she had somehow lost her temper in a way that she had only done once in her life. "Serves you ri-", Kane shut out Paul's voice as he responded to Abeebah with a deep mental growl. 'Don't you start', he felt the sharp bite of Abeebah's ire stab at him like a rusted knife.

'What do you want', Kane's rage should have overshadowed the young woman's instantly only her answering blind fury surprised him. 'What do I want, what do I want? Glen you better think good long and hard about what **you **want before you even consider what anyone else wants'. This statement stopped the big man's scathing retort in its tracks. What did he want? The answer was simple enough he wanted to be free, free from Paul, free from his brother's manipulations, and free from the bond that was thrust upon him with no regard or compassion on fate's part.

And had she not been viewing these thoughts of her bondmate's objectively and without her usual overly glacial perceptions Abeebah was sure she would be heart broken. Even it would only be for Glen's sake, 'In the stupid Olympics Mark gets gold for ignoring you, you get silver for listening to that jackass you're with, and I get bronze for not stopping the both of you'. The chrisom demon snarled internally at the thought of anyone being able to stop him. Nearly drowning under the sudden intensity of their' combined emotions Abeebah snarled back, 'and yet you are being controlled by that fat fuck who is playing you like a two dollar hoe'. It hurt more because Kane knew it was true, 'shut up'.

'Fuck you Glen, your not the only one hurting, God don't you get it we're in this together even your brother who I might add is not plotting against you'. Not even turning his attention outward Kane automatically followed his now mobile guardian not even aware where they were going. 'It's only a matter of time'. Abeebah didn't refute this claim as she was more than aware that the brothers were capable willing and able to stab each other in the back, 'yeah but if I killed my siblings for every time they became a potential threat none of them would have made it past pre-school', she retorted. 'Your siblings have never tried to kill you'.

Amusement filtered briefly through his mind, 'you think they weren't tempted as I'? In his surprise Kane had to repress a flinch. 'Oh yes we had and still have our moments Brandon even worked up the nerve to fight me once, I beat him to within an inch of his life', she informed him chillingly. 'What stopped you from killing him', he asked truly curious as he followed Bearer into some miscellaneous corner to camp out while people began to fill the arena.

For a long moment Abeebah didn't say anything but then Kane felt a sudden vulnerability that so familiar to his own it nearly caused him to cry out. 'I love them', she informed him bluntly, 'or as close to love as I have ever felt'. It was Kane's turn to be quiet, watching the happy, excited, and anxious faces of the people entering the arena from his vantage point. Those ignorant souls were unawares to the darkness in their' midst or they ignored it.

They knew nothing of true pain and what did Abeebah know of suffering of loneliness when she herself confessed to being able to barely feel herself. 'I know you're a whole hell of a lot stronger than what you're giving yourself credit for'. Something inside of Kane broke, 'shut up'. 'Grow up', Abeebah retorted angrily. The big man closed his eyes imagining what his dark skinned lover must look like now. Somehow the thought of Abeebah's amber gaze flashing in fury seemed disturbing to the big red machine. "Come on son", breaking out of his inner dialogue Kane finally noticed that somehow an insurmountable time had passed and now he could feel the telltale shuttering of the arena. Bearer was staring at him expectantly.

'**Think long and hard about what you want'**, Abeebah's words reverberated through his head even though he knew it wasn't her speaking. And for some unexplained inexplicable reason Kane found himself not in the least bit caring. The time he spent with Mark, Abeebah, and her family didn't matter. What passed between them didn't matter. What did matter was that he spent twenty years searching for vengeance and had suffered too long and gone too far to back down.

He was the big red machine and he would not be weak, lest his brother use it which he had no doubt Mark would do. At least with Bearer Kane knew under no uncertain terms the fat man was using him. And when his brother was taken care of he would deal with the manipulative bastard but until then Kane would not stray from his path of destruction. He didn't even acknowledge the deep panging in his gut that bespoke of Abeebah's silent disappointment.

* * *

Elsewhere Delia had went off to plan her next plan of attack against Paul Bearer. The young horseman had watched the duo for the whole afternoon and well into the evening. Bearer had run his mouth the entire time. It had Delia wondering how the fat bastard wasn't dead yet. He wouldn't stop his whining about how Kane's brother had betrayed him, how Kane should've seen through Undertaker's rouse, and how he would be punished after it was all said and done. Kane made no response. He just stared at his father much like Abeebah did when their' parents were alive, utterly bored. Or at least that was what Delia perceived when she caught glimpse of the big man's eyes.

When they moved as people were being let in Delia followed. Bearer continued to bad mouth Kane the whole time and Delia found herself craving to kill the weasel despite her sister's rules. The dark haired beauty was sure that she'd when the Nobel prize for doing the human race a favor by eradicating him. As soon as the twosome had found a dark corner to inhabit Delia left sure that they wouldn't move for awhile yet and seeing as Kane was still with Bearer, targeting the rat bastard would be all but suicide. And Abeebah didn't raise no fool.

Delia had to strategize and knew it as Kane obviously was guarding the degrading waste of space for whatever reason. The caramel skinned found her younger brother among the ring technicians finalizing something or other. When caught sight of his sister Evan raised an eyebrow. In response the elder Johns tilted her head toward the back and raised an eyebrow back. Now curious he gave a sharp nod and headed to the back knowing that Delia would follow discreetly. Once they were alone the youngest Johns rounded on Delia questions clear in his hazel orbs. Before he could even open his mouth she spoke, "Beebs gave me a target".

Both of his eyebrows shot up in inquiry. As soon as Bearer's name passed her lips Evan was grimacing. "Kane is after his brother", she further explained, "and he's more like Beebs than we'll ever know". "Shit", he knew exactly what that meant. The small boy could still remember the torment their' eldest sibling endured. They too had suffered but not to the degree that she had and if Kane was in the same situation than he would be no help. Obedience would have been beaten into long before they had ever met him. It had surprised them all when Abeebah had after sixteen years of abuse had in one night single-handedly killed both their' parents.

And had done so coldly methodically and with as much professionalism that they hadn't had an idea they were dead. That was until their' bodies were found and the cops came to tell them. Of course and investigation was done and it was ruled that the couple had been mugged and their' bodies disposed of minus their' few valuables. Evan shuttered, the police had suspected Abeebah but there was no proof and no indication to her quilt. Nothing save an obviously fresh wound running the length of the right side of her face. After it was all said and done Abeebah and Brandon were declared emancipated and their' younger siblings' guardians Brandon had snapped.

The light-skinned brawler was never good with extreme stress and this was enough to break the camel's back. They fought, Brandon lost, badly. The next three years were a nightmare the youngest Johns didn't want to contemplate as it was the darkest days rivaling biblical Armageddon. And this meant a very grim future for any and every person in contact with either Calloway brother, themselves included. Evan gave a heaving sighed and rubbed his temples feeling an oncoming headache. "Have you warned Taker", he asked with a grimace. Placing her hands on her narrow hips Delia glared, "of course I tried to warn him he was in no state to listen though".

Evan rubbed his harder, "ok you obviously tried to catch the fat fuck alone and that obviously didn't work". "And getting me to distract Kane obviously isn't gonna work either". With each discarded idea the two younger horsemen got more and more frustrated. Neither was good at coming up with a plan on the fly as it were, while Brandon excelled at it. However their' burley brother was all but out of commission with his nervousness killing his creative brain cells. They poured over it so long that they didn't even acknowledge the passing of time.

The rumble had come and gone with Stone Cold Steve Austin the not so humble victor. They had no idea that their brother had entered in at number three only to be eliminated Mankind who entered at number sixteen almost three minutes later. They were a little too involved with coming up with ways to avoid a situation even more messy than the one they found themselves in when they first arrived at the WWF. That is until Undertaker's gong sounded throughout the entire arena. Simultaneously their' heads shot up, "Shit"! Grapping his sister's hand Evan lead her to the 'tool shed'.

He handed his sister a bag with heavy cable wires in it and added a few wretches and electrical tape. "So what we're winging it and hoping Kane doesn't kill us", asked Delia as Evan grabbed another bag and started throwing other junk in it. "We stall", Evan replied pulling Delia along with out of the shed and into the corridor leading to the rafters situated above just off backstage. "And pray to God that Undertaker doesn't toy around with Michaels". His sister looked incredulous; they both knew that wasn't going to happen. After all the shit the showstopper put deadman through he was definitely going to drag this beating out.

Evan smiled at his sister twitchingly, "Hey you wanted it interesting". Thinking about the third born of the horsemen shrugged. Her brother made a valid point. It didn't get much more interesting than provoking a psychotic seven foot pyromaniac hell-bent on making his brother's life a living breathing nightmare. Against her will a sick smile stretches Delia's peach lips. Danger always called to her instincts, suicide junky Abeebah usually called her. Viluppo didn't care this was going to be fun.

* * *

In the arena Shawn watched the Undertaker's approach. Like everyone else the icon wondered where his 'insurance' was. A little while ago it was not uncommon to see deadman and his brother together but not tonight. The big red retard was here, Michaels was sure but he hadn't come out with his brother. Was it a trap, mind games were an aptitude Undertaker had perfected long before he ever came to the WWF. A glance at Hunter confirmed he was having similar thoughts and was anxiously combing his eyes through the crowd.

Chyna however was the picture of stony calm as usual, even as her eyes darted around searchingly. Shawn couldn't help the flinch when Undertaker ascended the steps to the ring and couldn't help but scoot out of the ring when he raised his arms causing an explosive to go off in the turnbuckle. 'Come on, it's just a fire cracker', he told himself, Shawn knew that if he let the Undertaker intimidate him the phenom would have won half the battle.

But it was hard to concentrate with the Undertaker's impossibly green eyes boring holes in his skull with that dead stare. Undertaker unfastened his jacket not taking his eyes off DX as he slipped the garment from his shoulders. He was ready, he was focused, Kane wasn't there but that didn't matter. The little boy who stole his title was going to pay. Still even as the bell sounded and Michaels got back in the ring in the back of his mind Undertaker's thoughts were on his brother.

HBK began to bob around the big man, well aware that if Taker got him cornered that he was a goner. The big man easily kept step with him, blocking his every attempt to somehow get passed him. Frustrated as he was Michaels made no move to attach the larger and much more aggressive man. The brown haired man was arrogant not stupid. He knew what trying to go toe to toe with the deadman would only lead to him being beat down. Suddenly he found himself backed into a corner and cursed at allowing his mind to wander as he dodged away from the Phenom's quick right.

Now Undertaker was in the corner and Michaels took the liberty of pounding on the big man while he was off balance. But just as quickly he was swatted away like a pesky fly as Undertaker tried to regain his bearings. Not pausing to think Michaels was back on him, not letting him breath, not giving him the chance to recover. However Undertaker was ready and grabbing the younger man by his throat threw him into the corner. Again Michaels dodged and got a few hits in only to once more be in the Phenom's grasp. Undertaker punched away, feeling the satisfying minute give of HBK's bones under each strike.

He took great pleasure out of hurting him, took comfort out of every grunt forced the showstopper's throat. This 'boy' had taken his title from him. Stolen not once but twice, and had the nerve to mock him afterward. This the dead man would not abide. Feral, Undertaker lifted Michaels high above his head and walked over to the casket intent on throwing him in. But the younger man was able to wiggle out of his grasp and drop behind him. Michaels pushed in into the ropes and tried to once again create distance between them.

Growling Undertaker went after him; his prey wouldn't get away that easily. Backstage everyone was riveted upon what was happening in the ring they didn't take notice of what was happening just behind them. Simply put Paul Bearer and Kane were being pummeled. Paul cursed and covered up as best as he could and Kane was hunched over in pain. Delia had made sure that her first wrench had caught the big man in the crotch and followed it up with drill bit.

Both she and Evan knew that they couldn't keep this up for long and that if Kane got his hands on them they wouldn't survive so they did what they did best. Ducking and dodging into the shadows of the rafters while throwing dangerous items at a target. And hoped to God in heaven that their' targets didn't catch glimpse of them. Suddenly Kane straightened as if the continued assault as if the various sharp and weighty objects being thrown at him didn't hurt. "Shit", Delia hissed, "time to go".

Wordlessly her younger sibling agreed as the big red machine's eyes affixed on the rafters they were throwing from. Backing away Evan and Delia grabbed their' bags and the younger horseman led his sister to the stairs on the opposite side. "Think he'll follow us", he asked as they fairly flew down the stairs. He was answered by the sound of Kane's knocking over some junk that was apparently in his way. How he got up there so quickly was beyond either of them. Delia laughed even as they ran, this was fun.

"You distract Kane, I'll deal with Bearer". The caramel skinned beauty rolled her eyes, "I'm crazy not stupid, you distract Kane, I'll deal with Bearer". They both heard the big man's footsteps coming toward them. "We don't have time for this", Evan hissed once they were down the steps. Smiling his sister pulled out the electrical tape and proceeded to tape the door behind them shut. "Set a trip line quick", she told him. Not missing a beat the boy did as Delia said. The doe eyed woman finished taping the door shut and grasped her brother's hand, pulling him toward the opposite stairs where Bearer was yelling obscenities.

Quickly both siblings attacked the obese monstrosity from behind with electrical tape. Delia and Evan circled around him taping his eyes shut before he even knew what happened. And his hands were next as they passed. The two horsemen were able to get to Bearer's waist before they had to abort their' mission. The door Kane was trying to get through was starting to give under his relentless assault. Swiftly kicking the manager to the ground Delia turned and ran with Evan not far behind her. They had done all they could and now it was up to the dead man.

* * *

Back in the ring Undertaker was on his third attempt to get Michaels into the casket. The showstopper had already had some close calls before as the dead man had all but thrown him the casket earlier and thrown over the top rope by his nuts later. Chyna and Hunter had already saved his bacon twice in this match up. However whatever was thrown at him, Undertaker kept coming. And with him came a new level of brutality that seemed to increase every time he got up. He even managed to tombstone Michaels while in the casket. Now Undertaker had chokeslamed him it seemed that his victory was assured.

That is, until once again Chyna and Triple H got involved once again and they were not alone. DX swarmed in numbers surrounding, coming out of nowhere to help their' leader. A crutch to the back of the head had Undertaker distracted enough for Chyna to give him a low blow. Undertaker was dropped to his knees with another shot by Helmsly and nearly groaned in pain when Rick Rude joined in on kicking him while he was down. The others joined in with zeal, taking turns while hitting him. Now Undertaker could no longer stop the question surfacing his mind, 'where was Kane'. Betrayal seeped into his every pore as he lay unable to retaliate.

And then the lights went out, organ music began to play as the pyros on the ramp went off. It harrowed his brother's entrance and his rescue. Or so the dead man thought and apparently so did JR who was all but screaming the big red machine's praises. Kane walked down the ramp purposefully slow. Whoever had attacked Paul Bearer and he had gone. Neither the big red machine nor Paul had caught glimpse of their' cowardly assailants. And even though he had inkling about whom it was, Kane made no move to telling his ranting father as they had removed the prodigious amount of tape that had been wrapped around him.

The big man poked at the link that bonded him to Abeebah and found only her disappointment and cold fury. Her thoughts were closed to him. Turning his attention outward Kane took notice of DX members heading up the ramp to attack him. It only took one punch each to dispose of any and all his would be attackers. Easily stepping over the top rope Kane began to clear the ring. Most of the people he was currently choke slamming the big red machine didn't even recognize. However the pain and fear on their' faces was enough to further fuel his blood lust. Seeing the look in the big monster's eyes the senior members of DX quickly got out of the ring.

Even as they watched their' fellow delinquents get pummeled Triple H and Chyna pulled a dazed HBK out of the casket and up the ramp to leave. Like a giant sentry Kane stood in front of his brother waiting for him to stand. It took longer than anyone expected but Undertaker did stand and approach his younger sibling. Still dazed the phenom didn't even register the hand around his throat until it was much too late. The on looking spectators screamed in horror as Kane chokeslamed his brother. All the air in the dead man's lungs left with a woosh as his already abused back when it met the canvas.

'Glen what the hell', finally jarred into paying attention to their' link Undertaker was confronted by the searing heat of Kane's rage, agony, and determination. He wasn't looking into the eyes of his brother; he was looking into the eyes of the monster Paul head brought to the WWF. Suddenly he couldn't breath couldn't think couldn't move as he heard the wailing laughter of Paul Bearer. "Time to pay the piper dead man", all the red head could see was Kane's fist descending toward his face. The big red machine pummeled his brother without mercy satisfied with the pain and betrayal he felt from his prone brother.

'Good let him suffer as I've suffered'. Malignantly he ignored that a part of his own heart cried out along with his brother's. This is what he wanted Kane told himself. In the end Undertaker would betray him and all the years he had suffered lay partially on this man's shoulders. Their' parents were already dead and Bearer was next on his hit list. Easily slinging his brother's dead weight over his shoulder much to his father's delight Kane walked over to the side of the ring and deposited Undertaker none too gently into the casket. Slamming the lid shut Kane glared at the frozen referee.

The demon in chrisom held out his hand and the little man automatically handed him the keys and padlock to the coffin his brother was laid up in. Shutting the lid Kane locked it and threw the keys into the crowd. "I got a better idea son, drag dat son bitch here", called a smug Paul Bearer. Under his mask the big man grit his teeth as he felt the not subtle push from Bearer. The man still thought he could control him and in doing as Bearer said Kane continued to allow him to think so. The big red machine pushed the coffin to the ramp where his father stood in wait.

In his hands were a can of gasoline and a lighter in the other. Again Abeebah's words echoed through his mind. **'He's playing you'**. 'And playing me better than I'm playing him it would seem', Kane thought with sudden enlightenment. Paul's beady gaze was on him expectantly and the compulsion was pushing into him harder than Kane could have ever imagined. It was all but screaming in his head for blood where once upon a time he had thought it was his own torment urging him on.

Now he knew the difference. Kane wished for his brother's agony, wished him pain for all the wrongs that he committed against him, but never ever had he wished for his brother's life. This was Paul's greed and spitefulness at work. Paul the pathetic Kane dubbed him now even as he silently watched the older man uncork the gasoline and spill it all over the casket. Desperately the dark haired wrestler tried to think of something that would stay his brother's execution. 'ABEEBAH', the answer was immediate, 'what'? 'Take care of Mark', and without second thought he took the lighter from Paul and set fire to the coffin that his brother was still locked in.


	8. Sibling Rivalry

A/N: Sorry it took so long to update but besides being sick as a dog things have been ridiculously hectic at school. I've never had so many test and projects to do in my life.

* * *

When Kane lit the coffin his brother the Undertaker was still in, many thought that he had ignited a war of which the world had never seen. Abeebah disagreed; this sort of war was well documented throughout history, it was a war between siblings. And that kind of war rarely ever ended well for either party. No one believed for a second that the dead man had been laid to rest. He would rise from the ashes like he always seemed to do and be back for his vengeance. Abeebah herself had fought constantly with the elder of her two younger brothers for well into three years. They had put each other through hell and were better off for it. It was only way Brandon could get through to her and express what he dare not give voice.

Watching the replay of the 'incident' for maybe the thousandth time Abeebah knew for certain that it was the case for Kane. He needed to fight his brother. Mark being the stubborn mule that he was couldn't and or wouldn't understand this. And instead took the unexpected betrayal to heart despite the eldest Johns effort to make him understand. Even now after Kane and Undertaker's first 'fight' at Wrestlemania XIV it simply wasn't enough. Ceaseless minutes of beating each other senseless weren't enough. And much to Abeebah's horror once again the rat bastard of Kane's father added fuel to the fire. Or rather he came up with a match that would ensure the Phenom's absolute destruction.

On April 26 at Unforgiven the WWF was going to host the first ever inferno match, where the only way to win was to set your opponent on fire. The eldest horsemen remembered the terror she felt when Paul threw down the challenge. Remembered somehow once again breaking whatever spell Kane was under and screaming at him through the link. Abeebah was ignored. Undertaker's answer was predictable but no less disappointing. The big man didn't back down an inch. So the two brothers from the dark side were once again Pay-Per-View bound. And Abeebah found herself entertaining an emotion that she hadn't indulged in years, hatred.

Not of her bond mates' stubbornness, not even of Paul Bearer, Abeebah's hate solely lay on a one Vincent Kennedy McMahon's head. The manipulative bastard was letting this all happen. Not out of spite or even some vendetta against the dead man, he was helping to rip an already torn family to pieces for ratings. This was new low to which all of the horsemen had to check their' varied tempers. Abeebah, Delia, and Evan made no further move to interfere as did Brandon whom was sorely tempted if only for Abeebah's sake.

The Calloway's needed to work this out on their' own and getting involved would hurt more than it would help. They even 'persuaded' many of the opportunists of the locker room to do the same. The weeks leading up to the inferno match were hell on everyone. The locker room was in terror as the Phenom's temper boiled over, Kane reeked havoc on any and ever one, even the new WWF champion Stone Cold Steve Austin wasn't exempt.

Vince hated the bionic red neck with a passion and wanted nothing more than to take the title from the man that refused to be his puppet. For it the rattle snake not only won the hearts of the fans he also earned Abeebah's quiet respect. Evan quit doing side jobs for commissioner Slaughter as it was becoming too dangerous to do so and Delia had made short work of Sunny and Ivory, much to the two older women chagrin. They feuded against one another only for Viluppo to finally snap and challenge them both in the first ever woman's hell in a cell match.

They accepted, though the match had yet to be scheduled. Brandon too was moving up on the competitor latter. The Philadelphia native now known as Guerra had went toe to toe with Steve Blackman and Ken Shamrock. Brandon lost to the former and won the latter, gaining respect and sparring partners in both of the wrestlers. And despite all the drama, changes, and hype he was going through, Kane still had no desire to end Undertaker's life. That wish solely lay in the black heart of the treacherous Paul Bearer.

And the surety of the dead man's emanate and permanent demise only made him even smugger. It sickened the darkest horseman to no end. Sighing Abeebah turned off the T.V and stretched out on the bed smelling the fresh scent of hotel room sheets. Unforgiven was just a few days away and the pandemonium had reached an all time high. Shawn Michaels was no longer a part of the WWF as an injury to his leg required that the show stopper either never wrestle again or have a surgery done. Triple H restarted DX with he being the leader and incorporating three more members. First the new age outlaws Badass Billy Gunn and Road dogg Jesse James and then their youngest friend and newest addition to the federation X-pac.

It was a miracle that Abeebah was even able to dodge the constant chaos around her. Constant travel and rivalries at work made it hard to relax and often enough deadman would show up out of the blue. He wouldn't say a word, just stared as if she were some kind of precious stone that he was inspecting. When he first starting doing it Abeebah tried to talk to him yet she gave up when it became apparent he was never going to respond.

She didn't even look up when she heard her hotel room door open. It was the same every time, somehow he would swindle Brandon's key from him and would come in unannounced. The darkest horseman didn't even bat a lash when she felt the bed dip under Mark's considerable weight. Closing her eyes Abeebah prepared herself for hours of silence and was stunned when her usually taciturn companion spoke. "If it came down between me and Kane who would you side with"?

Immediately she noticed how the auburn haired man didn't say 'my brother' or 'Glen'. Carefully Abeebah considered her words without opening her eyes. She didn't want to see soul searching green orbs focused on her, "don't try to drag me into this Mark". The bed shifted as he moved closer grasping her chin and squeezing lightly in a subtle warning. Dark lids lifted and hazel eyes glared coldly with reproach. "Tell me", the base rumble of Undertaker's voice vibrated through her petite frame.

Their' gazes met and clashed almost completely identical dead stares. And this time it was Abeebah whom backed down, lowering her lids at half mast and relaxing docile under the Phenom's commanding presence. She couldn't help it as this was how she reacted to anything that threatened her. Smile and be reasonable right up until she took a knife and stabbed someone with it whether it was metaphorical or literal. The sudden bitter chill barely registered across their' link, "I'd pick whatever benefited me".

The deadman looked frustrated, "you're lying princess", the grip on her on her chin tightened marginally. Smiling softly Abeebah stared right back, "I'm not going to answer you". All the possible ways to get the woman to answer flashed in rapid succession across Undertaker's mind. Each idea was analyzed and discarded accordingly. Abeebah watched his immobile features curiously but made no move to give voice to what she knew what was going on in his head.

It would be rude to interrupt after all. Finally after many moments of silence Undertaker spoke, "this is no time for games Morte". The darkest horseman frowned ominously, "I'm not playing". "You've been entirely too focused on what other's opinions of yours and Glen's issues when you should be more focused on the fact that whatever passed between you two needs to be worked out". He let out a mirthless chuckle, "this coming from the woman who said I needed to fight em". Deadman let go of her chin and leaned back so that he was resting against the pillows at the head of the bed. Per usual Abeebah smiled right back, no sympathy for him whatsoever.

"Do I have to beat it into your thick ass head with a sledge hammer", she asked acrobatically, "fighting is a very big part of that process". She held up her hand stalling his retort, "But whatever is between you two should be just that, between you two". Again he laughed without real humor. "Paul ain't go'n ta let that happen an ya know it, the fat fuck got Vince's ear and all that bastard's got on his mind is dollar signs". Weariness practically oozed of him as he closed his eyes. Abeebah didn't know what to say to him, she could barely deal with her own emotions let alone what was duel filtering through her senses via the brothers.

Even her glacial heart had its shattering point and Abeebah was quickly finding it hard to remain at an emotional distance. The world around her seemed to be falling apart and the eldest Johns knew that she wouldn't be able to pick up the pieces without someone bearing the weight with her. And Mark was in no better shape than she; simply at a lost at the hand life dealt him and tired of being beat down by life. The eldest horseman squeezed her eyes shut, drew her legs up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around herself. It did little to comfort her.

They remained like this for a long while, both lost in their' own thoughts and schemes. And though neither would admit it they found comfort in each other's quiet company. 'Now if only Glen were here and not still in a homicidal mindset', Abeebah thought wryly, 'we're all so pathetic it isn't even funny'. Suddenly she couldn't breathe. Abeebah eyes opened wide as she looked at her stone still companion. Undertaker's chilling gaze met hers with a new found and down right frightening determination.

Somehow his eyes seemed to darken, paying homage to just how pale the phenom was. His shadow seemed to lengthen as he rose to his feet and placed Brandon's key on the nightstand left without a word. Abeebah could feel the new and discerning set of emotions coming off of him by bucket full's. They were disturbingly similar to Kane's mindset toward his brother. Undertaker was feeling murderous to say the least and she didn't know why.

* * *

The Philadelphia native didn't know what to make of the sudden change but it didn't bode well for anyone as far she was concerned. Abeebah couldn't have been more right. The demon of Death Valley had in those silent moments of just contemplating had come to three conclusions concerning his predicament. The first, being that he the Phenom, the dead man, man of the dark side, prince of darkness, the immortal, the Undertaker was weak. Where was the stoic unmovable mountain of a man that had taken the WWF by storm? 'Buried under the sickening weaknesses', he sneered to himself, 'buried deep under the love for a brother that wants my eternal damnation'. It left a bitter after taste in his mouth.

The second conclusion Undertaker came to was that by showing weakness not only had Paul and Kane gained power over him but so did many of the WWF superstars. He wasn't as focused, he wasn't as effective. And in a way he had become more human. Humans were weak, they were flawed and above all else all of them ultimately perished. And despite his every effort to quell his human heart, Undertaker was more than aware that he would never kill his brother. A cruel smirk stretched his thin lips, 'but they don't know that'.

And this led to his third and final realization. He would have to reclaim his inhumanity and once again strike fear into the hearts of everyone. Abeebah's smiling visage cane to mind, 'especially her', he told himself. He ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him that what he was about to do was not right. That he could no more expect Kane to see the manipulative bastard Bearer really was when he himself had fallen into the fat man's traps more than he cared to acknowledge.

Undertaker easily lumbered his way to his own room, half formed ideas being thought out and discarded as he went. By the time he returned to his room Undertaker had already had a plan to deal with both Bearer and Kane. It would take some doing even by his standards but to regain the power he lost by letting his guilt control him would be well worth it. Picking up the telephone he preceded to call the number that the elemental priest had left with him. "Your majesty", deadman didn't wonder at how the person answering the phone new it was at least one of the trinity.

"Have construction started for a ranch in Death Valley, and I want personal information on one Vincent Kennedy McMahon". Not waiting for a reply Undertaker hung up; if the elementals were efficient enough to get the large sum of land they were efficient enough to build property on it. Vengeance would be his one way or another. Undertaker thought nothing of his use of the respect that the elementals to get what he wanted, he had to find Vader.

* * *

In a dojo in the inner city Brandon and Blackman were going at it in a spar. Blackman, with his beloved Nunchaku and Brandon with a quarter staff, circled each other lazily. The second born horseman had bruises peppering his arms from where the older man was able to hit him. Brandon smiled they didn't even sting. Steve was smiling back at him, though it was more of a grimace. The side of his face was quickly turning blue from the solid hit the younger man had gotten just moments earlier. "That was just mean man", he told Brandon jokingly. Green eyes flickered with humor, "that", he tilted his staff so that it was pointed down, "was a love tap". So Swiftly Blackman couldn't follow Brandon jabbed the end of his staff on the martial artist toe.

"SON OF A BITCH", Brandon laughter was quickly cut off by another hit to the wrist. The Nunchaku hit the exact same area as he did before and caused Brandon to hiss as it finally stung. He retaliated with another strike to Blackman's temple which missed by millimeters. Blackman hit him again, the Nunchaku catching Brandon in the shoulder. Gritting his teeth the second eldest horseman smashed his elbow into the bridge of his sparing partner's nose. Out of reflex Blackman's head snapped back and he didn't even notice the quarter staff sweeping the back of his knees until he was on the floor, his Nunchaku slipped from his grasp, and a staff at his throat.

The brown eyed lethal weapon scowled at his young opponent good-naturedly, "you like to play rough". Brandon shrugged and moved back so that Steve could get up which he did. "That's nothing", the horseman informed him, "this is pussy footing compared to the fights me and Morte had back home". By some unspoken rule the four Johns had taken to calling each other by their' ring names around others and calling each other by their' given name in private.

None of them really knew why they did it but it had become almost second nature to think of themselves as the four horsemen rather than the Johns, at least in public. Blackman picked up his fallen weapon and fell into a relaxed fighting stance ready to go again. "What's up with your sister anyway man"? Lazily twirling his quarter staff Brandon looked at the martial artist thoughtfully, "what do you mean"? "I don't mean to sound sexist or anything but why she hasn't hooked up with anybody, it's not like she hasn't gotten plenty of offers". It was common for woman of the world wrestling federation to take casual lovers and or boyfriends for protection or to elevate their status in the company.

The wrestlers did it for similar reasons. Blackman knew for a fact that more than one main event superstar wouldn't mind taking the beautiful yet mysterious leader of the horsemen to their bed. Even Jacqueline and her own sister Viluppo the two toughest divas on the roster had taken the occasional lover. But Morte was seemingly uninterested in company politics and had not at least too many of the gossiping locker room's knowledge taken anyone to bed. This, despite Blackman's reserved nature made him curious and bold enough to ask Morte's younger brother. Brandon wasn't mad, much to Blackman's surprise. The light-skinned boy merely looked thoughtful. "Got shot down eh"?

Thankfully the martial artist tan hid most of his blush, "yes", he mumbled in a rare show of embarrassment. Paying the blush no mind Brandon struck out with unexpected quickness. Blackman blocked the strike automatically. "You should have asked Viluppo", Brandon continued to speak without missing a beat; "Morte doesn't do causal relationships". Blackman was tempted to ask why but the younger horseman beat him to the punch. "Relationships of any type are complicated and much to Viluppo's chagrin Morte likes things simple". Twisting the chain of his Nunchaku around Brandon's staff Blackman pulled. Grunting Brandon kept his grip on his weapon. Thinking about the younger man's words Blackman had to agree with him.

Relationships like the one he sought to have with Morte were often times more trouble than what they were worth. Backhanding the taller man Steve moved in to take Brandon's legs in from under in by grabbing the back of his knees. Instead of falling as the martial artist expected younger man kneed him in the face. Once again the brown eyed man found himself on his back Brandon standing over him with his staff at his throat. The older fighter stared up at him incredulously, "you weren't this tough in the ring", he said.

Green/gold eyes didn't even narrow at the unintentional insult, Blackman was just stating fact. Brandon shrugged his bulky shoulders, "no rules outside the ring". Smirking Brandon helped Blackman to his feet once more, "besides Morte is a whole of a hell lot meaner than you are". The older wrestler gave his peer a light shove in retaliation, "of course she is", he paused, and "she's a woman". Brandon snorted but didn't disagree on either point.

* * *

Back the hotel the WWF was renting out Evan stood by the pool his sister was currently doing laps in, timing her. Delia despised lifting weights so this was the perfect exercise for her. Swimming worked all the muscles in the body without putting too much stress on the body over long periods of time. It was also a great way to build up her endurance seeing as her naturally small frame was not built for poundings that more than one diva on the roster gave her.

"How's she doing", Evan all but leaped in the air as Abeebah's voice came up from behind him. Gasping he turned to glare at his eldest sibling, "don't do that". A ghost of her old Mona Lisa smile stretched across Abeebah's full lips. It was a pale comparison to the full blow mocking the she usually displayed but at least it was more than the cold shell she had been before. "What have I told you about being aware of your surroundings"? The youngest horseman grumbled under his breath at his sister's subtle rebuking tease. Once again he regarded Abeebah critically, taking in her lack luster skin and now ridiculously long hair. She was beautiful even now; her unusually intense eyes dim with exhaustion, the skin of her face taunt with loss of weight.

The Calloway brothers' feuding was taking a heavy toll on his sister but Abeebah refused to give an inch. She continued to fight and win all of her matches and despite the multiple victories over the woman's champion did not challenge her. Even after Vince called her to his office once to convince her to do so, it didn't work as Abeebah had no intention of gaining more power than she thought she could handle.

"_Power is a tool"_, she had reasoned with her siblings more than once, _"Only someone truly stupid and desperate would want power for power's own sake"_. Evan held back a nostalgic smile; their ever wise and pragmatic sister didn't even realize how amazing she really was. "Done yet"? Evan snapped out of his thoughts abruptly aware that he had been staring. "Sorry it's been a long week", he lowered his eyes. He could feel Abeebah's amber gaze boring holes into the top of his head. "You're worried", it was a statement not a question.

"We all are", Evan looked directly into Abeebah's eyes, then quickly glanced toward Delia who was getting out the pool. The caramel-skinned beauty was regarding them curiously but made no move to join them. Evan was thankful for such conversations with Abeebah were difficult enough with just her. "I'm not going to lie and say that you shouldn't worry". He turned his attention back to his sister noting the passive mannerisms that she was readopting. He hated it. "Don't Beebs, just don't", Evan rubbed his face in the palm of his hand, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't earn him a place on Abeebah's shit list. "Look I know there isn't any way in hell you're going to let us get involved anymore than we already have, but please-".

Evan cast his begging gaze to his immobile sister, "please be careful". Not looking the least bit surprised Abeebah nodded. Much later on that day Vince called Abeebah and Brandon was called into a meeting by their irritated employer. Apparently the business tycoon wanted to discuss their' public relations and possible future matches. Both of them could smell a rat but neither of them was going to challenge the already stretched thin McMahon. His hatred for Austin as of late had translated into the abuse of power toward his other employees and they were in no hurry to become victims of his temper tantrums.

The siblings arrived at Vince's 'office' promptly and well prepared for confrontation. They were invited in with a smile and an offer of coffee from Vince's assistant. Smiling Abeebah excepted while Brandon politely refused. The assistant left and the two horsemen sat in the chairs in front of McMahon's desk. The dark eyed businessman regarded them with a practiced smile from behind his desk. However both of the Johns could see the strain that it took to keep up the pleasant façade. But they knew better than to call him on it and silently waited for Vince to start the conversation. The owner of the world wrestling federation regarded his two employees with a friendly yet aloof air trying to gage their' moods.

However both the siblings were harder to read than most. Though she was smiling, Abeebah always had a chilling distance about her and now was no difference. Vince briefly recalled the conversation he had some time ago with the young woman about refusing to challenge the woman's champion Jacqueline for a title shot. He had tried to sway the young woman into doing so. Abeebah had gained popularity in such a short amount of time and normally the attention this woman was garnering would take years to cultivate. Yet the 'first lady of the horsemen' as the fans come to call her did it in months with nary a glance and a cold smile. It was only seemed natural that she would get a title shot. However Abeebah disagreed.

Coldly courteous the darkest horseman explained that she had no wish to currently be woman's champion. He had asked why and shuttered thinking about how similar her icy disposition was to the Undertaker's. The small amused smile that she wore while telling him that she wasn't ready for the limelight only made Abeebah seem more eerie as if the hard quality of her amber eyes weren't enough to set McMahon at unease. He was just thankful that her younger siblings weren't so obstinate.

Brandon sat next to her sister not smiling but no less menacing with a simmering temper flashing across his green gold eyes. However the older man wasn't unnerved by the younger horseman seeing as he was easier to read than his elder sibling. Holding back the urge to clear his throat Vince regarded them with a practiced dignified look, "We have a problem, there was supposed to be an inter-promotional tag team match at Unforgiven". "You'll be taking the place of team Rock 'n' Roll Express against the New Midnight Express", he laced his fingers together waiting for the immediate refusal that he expected from Abeebah. The older horseman just stared at him.

"That's all", asked a now slightly irked Brandon. They could have just been called by the scheduling committee like before. His sister too was annoyed but for a very different reason. She could see manipulation written all over this. "No that's not all, it's for the NWA tag team championship", scowled the businessman. Abeebah shot her brother a look, stilling the retort she could see welling within his throat. She turned her glare to their' employer still confused as to why they called them here if he was just going to tell them that they were going to be competing. There had to be something more to it than a championship. "What's the catch"? Again their' employer looked too smug for either of their' peace of minds.

And then Vince dropped the bomb on them, "if you lose than you will have to face each other in a hardcore match". If looks could kill McMahon would have been a pile of dust on the floor. "And exactly what are you getting out of this, seeing as you are the one advocating this match", Abeebah leaned back in her seat sure that the unholy light shining in her eyes would scare McMahon into answering. And she was right when without thinking he did so, "You won't compete for the woman's gold so why not the tag titles"?

'Thus giving the fans what they want to see', Abeebah thought with a dark look. "And the hardcore match if we lose", asked Brandon just as pissed as his older sister but not hiding it as well. "Will occur at the next video taping", Vince interrupted almost immediately. If anything this only served to piss them off more. What right had this manipulative jackass to force them into this situation? Brandon was growling, the rumbling sound all but vibrating through his frame. Abeebah was no longer smiling, "then you better pray we win, because the moment this little idea entered that conniving head of yours, that ass belonged to me are we clear". Too afraid to contradict Vince nodded, "crystal".


	9. Unforgiven is Kane

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update I've hadn't had the time nor energy to write.

* * *

Hot water pounded against the stark white tiles of the shower and over Abeebah's head. Her eyes were open and tracing the distorted lines of the grout between each tile. Usually the trite activity soothed her nerves and grounded her mind but not even the scalding rush washing down her back could distract her. She was furious, no scratch that she was royally pissed. McMahon's outmaneuvering of her came as no surprise. The jackass had screwing people over down to an art form long before she and her siblings came along but it still stung surprisingly more than Abeebah ever expected.

The darkest horseman let out a hoarse laugh, bitterly realizing that if she and Brandon lost their' upcoming match then they would be in a mirror position of what Taker and Kane were in. It didn't matter that their' conceived match would come after Unforgiven seeing as the feud between the Calloway siblings would most definitely not end there. Another great marketing scheme no doubt thought up by the ultimate businessman himself. None of the Johns had any illusions that somehow someway Vince would not try to screw with the match in order for his plan to work.

"_But knowing there is a trap is the first step to avoiding it"_. Abeebah sighed as she thought of youngest brother's momentary wisdom when she and Brandon had informed their' fellow cohorts of the situation. Turning off the water she smiled truly this time as she stepped out of the tub. A general and unsaid rule among the Johns long after their' parents untimely demise was that each of them got an equal say in the household. It was no different now that they were on the road but much like when they were in Philadelphia one of them would always stepped up as quasi leader in any given situation. It was rare for Evan to take the lead in a situation, but when he did it was always memorable. Drying off the dark beauty wrung out her hair and began to lotion up.

Flashback

* * *

"_First order of business is research; I'm going to find out what I can about the bozos you're facing". Evan stood in the middle of his three older siblings like a little general delivering orders. On any other day Abeebah would have pointed out how comical they must have looked all congregated around Evan in their' hotel room, plotting. However she too far gone in her rage and need to 'scheme' to really acknowledge the hilarity of the situation. Delia raised an eyebrow from where she sat on the edge of Abeebah's bed, "And what exactly will they do while you research? It isn't exactly like they can train for people they don't have a plan for". _

_Evan had a familiar smile on his face that Abeebah did not like one bit. Already on edge she snarled at her younger sibling, hoping to stifle whatever notion he head in that wicked little head of his. All of her siblings jumped still not used to Abeebah's hairline temper even after months of dealing with it. The darkest horseman didn't back down an inch. "Come on Beebs just hear me out", Evan nervously bit his lip and turned pleading eyes to his eldest sister. _

End Flashback

* * *

Abeebah didn't know whether to be pissed that Evan had talked her into this or proud that he was clever enough to have thought it up. Applying sparse eye shadow and shimmering lip gloss the eldest Johns grabbed her brush and began the tedious task of running it through the thick length of her hair. After that Abeebah parted her hair that it concealed her scar while she pinned the other side back with a golden butterfly clip. Sighing Morte glanced at the dress that her sister a selected for her to wear tonight. Delia had called it an Anarkali Churidar style dress. Abeebah just thought it was Indian inspired, as the tight boxed style orange top part and the sheer cream skirt which started right under the bust would conceal her but also leave little to the imagination.

It was an elegant piece of work that Abeebah had no trouble imagining herself wearing if not for the necklace Delia had selected for her to wear with it. Her younger sibling had selected a Madonna style beaded black and gold choker. Abeebah always had a problem with anything or anyone getting too close to her throat. In her childhood it was a necessary phobia seeing as it was a frequent target for her parents and a vulnerable spot she never completely got over. Only a select few were able to get that close without her going berserk and necklaces or high collars were treated with extreme prejudice.

The thought of simply not putting it on crossed her mind but something told her that somehow some way her crafty brothers and sister would find a way of bullying her into wearing it. So after slipping into her new dress Abeebah reluctantly fastened the piece of jewelry to her throat. It felt stiff and tight to Abeebah as if she could feel each bead seemingly digging into her neck. It was an uncomfortable feeling that she tried to distract herself from by turning her attention slightly inward. A trick that she learned from Kane. And was almost horrified at what she found, the steel bite that she had come to associate with her own heart was all but gone.

In its place was a host of chaos flooding her system trying to unite together in some form of order, yet unable to mix. 'What the hell? Why hadn't I noticed before', Abeebah raved at herself, but then calmed down as she saw that becoming upset only stirred the mess even more. The eldest horseman had no idea what it meant and until she got an inkling of what it did she would try to do her best not to further disrupt it. Turning her attention back outward Abeebah didn't even glance at her reflection as she headed out of the bathroom where her siblings stood in wait. Brandon was standing near the door his hands stuffed down the pockets of his black dress jeans, his one and only designer watch peeking from out under his partially rolled jacket sleeve.

The second born horseman was dressed in dark blue button down shirt and Chinese black jacket with a gold and blue dragon woven into the fabric itself. On his feet Brandon wore black boots that Abeebah was sure he bought some time ago at a military second hand store. She turned her attention to Delia, who was sitting on one of the beds and had momentarily stopped putting on a pair of sea green beaded sandals to watch her. There was a smug look on the younger John's face that informed Abeebah that her sister was pleased with her appearance.

Delia pointed to the bed across from her, "there's the rest of your stuff". On the bed was a pair of black sandals identical to her sister's, a shawl that matched the cream of Abeebah's dress, and a rectangular purse. The elder young woman sat down and wordlessly put on the sandals. She glanced at Delia as she pulled the gossamer fabric of her shawl around her shoulders. Abeebah's younger sister had chosen to wear something radically different than her elder siblings.

Delia had styled her chocolate brown hair into an elaborate knot at the crown of her head. The younger horseman had lined the inner and outer corners of her eyes with purple eye shadow and colored her lips with a shimmering pink lip gloss. The 'shirt' that Delia wore, though high collared and long sleeved it cut dangerously under her bust with swaths of fabric criss-crossing down Delia's abdomen and tied into a bow only slightly above her hip. Delia wore low-riding sky blue jeans that hugged her lower half like a second skin. And Abeebah had no doubt that the outfit was an invitation to any and all comers if they suited her sister's taste. Her younger sister smiled mischievously as she finally slipped into her sandals, "Ready to go Beebs"?

Abeebah stood to her feet and all but strutted to Brandon's side. "If I said no you're gonna make me go anyway". Both her younger siblings snorted, following her out the door and to the rental car that their' youngest had somehow arranged for them. Without breaking stride Brandon took his place at the driver's side with Delia immediately taking shotgun. Almost grudgingly the oldest horseman took to the back seat shutting the door behind her with a little more force than necessary.

Neither of her siblings were able to hold back a flinch at her 'little temper tantrum'. "So where are we going to 'relax', as our fearless leader ordered", Abeebah asked dryly as they sped off from the parking lot. Brandon's entire focus was on the road, easily maneuvering through traffic with barely legal turns and almost running every light. Delia paid no heed to their' brother's boarder line suicide driving as she turned around and folded her arms atop the headrest. "I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet", she teased, "we're go'n clubbing little girl".

Abeebah narrowly avoids growling at her playful sibling; Delia was just trying to get her to lighten up. It was working but she wasn't going to bite her sister's head off for trying, even if she was highly tempted by the idea. Instead she cocked her head and gave a sly smirk, "I knew there had to be a reason why you were putting on your hoe shoes", Abeebah teased Delia right back. Viluppo gave her sister a searching look still seeing the tension in Abeebah's eyes, "Of course can't catch the fish without the proper bait". It was a pathetic attempt to get the darkest horseman to relax but Delia didn't know what else to do and Brandon wasn't going to help.

"So what's this club we're going to", Abeebah ignored her second youngest sibling's discomfort, "it must be nice if you were so set on stuffing me in this get up". Delia rolled her eyes, "It is nice, fancy enough that not a lot of our coworkers frequent it and cheap enough that we won't break the bank for drinks". Abeebah snorted and turned her attention to the window only absently noticing the speed in which Brandon was driving had somehow increased.

But she made no move to tell him to slow down, Brandon always enjoyed the few times he got behind the wheel of a fast car. Delia turned back around and rolled down the window. She too was enjoying the ride. Idly Abeebah wondered if the foot wide smile plastered on Delia's face would have to be surgically removed. A ghost of a grin tugged at her colored lips as Abeebah thought of simpler times, when she and her siblings were just learning to truly enjoy life. Instantly the eldest John's half smile turned into a slight frown, 'stop thinking about it', she told herself.

But then thoughts of everything that happened ever since they came to the World Wrestling Federation replaced Abeebah's memories of 'before'. She gripped that door handle in a white knuckled grip and forced herself to let out a breath. They were supposed to be relaxing and it wouldn't do for her to drown in the feelings she had sworn not to explore. "Beebs", Abeebah glanced toward Brandon, the car had stopped sometime during her distraction and her siblings were waiting for her to exit the car. Both of them had inquisitive worried looks on their' faces. However Abeebah was in no mood to answer their' unsaid questions and ignored them as she got out.

And raised an eyebrow as she beheld the club that her siblings had dined to go and relax. One might describe "The dungeon" as red carpet club as the line to get in spanned the block. Abeebah followed her younger siblings to the door, knowing her clever youngest brother had somehow arranged for them to get inside as well. The bouncer took one look at Brandon and moved to the side allowing them entry. "Oh he's good", Abeebah had to agree with Brandon's statement once they were inside. The walls were lined with a burgundy fabric and wrought iron lamps. Small intimate bistro tables surrounded a raised dance floor except for one side. The lights were pitched low enough to give privacy but bright enough to avoid accidents.

Many people were on the dance floor moving with the pulsing music and generally enjoying themselves. Delia immediately moved to join them leaving her older siblings to decide what to do amongst themselves. Brandon and Abeebah laughed, their' younger sister obviously liked this place. Taking Abeebah's arm under his Brandon chivalrously lead his older sister to a table to watch their' sister dance. None of the horsemen noticed the eyes that were following them. Right near the entrance a cameraman and his partner conversed about the new arrivals.

* * *

"Wow, I wouldn't mind tak'n that one ta bed". His partner rolled his dark eyes and considered not informing him exactly who he was eyeing through his camera. "Joe, trust me you don't want to mess with that". Joe glanced at him, "an' why not, ya got to admit that's a fine piece of ass Jack". Jack once again rolled his eyes, "besides her being a wrestler? That broad just happens to be the fist lady of the horseman or didn't you notice her on Guerra's arm"? Joe's eyes went wide and he barely managed to keep grip on his equipment as he swore venomously. "You're kidding me right; I thought the icy bitch wore a mask"? Jack held back the urge to slap his partner for his crud description of the woman he had come to admire through the lens of a camera.

Morte was in a word, a specimen of deadly grace and easy beauty. Jack had easily recognized her for it even though she wasn't wearing her ring gear. When Vince had ordered them to this club to catch some moments with some of the more well known wrestlers of the federation he had no idea that the horsemen would be here. Then again Jack hadn't dared to hope that Morte, the recluse eldest would ever be caught dead going to any club, even a chic one like the dungeon. Yet here she was in all her mask-less glory and on her brother's arm.

"Yo, Jack, anybody home buddy"? Flinching back into focus the cameraman gave a nervous laugh, "sorry Joe what'd ya say"? "How bout we shadow er', see what a night on the town is like for the Ms. Frigid bitch". Jack was breath away from reprimanding his partner for being disrespectful toward the diva once again when Joe's idea clicked in his head. He found it very appealing but then shuttered at the thought of what Morte would do to them if she caught them. Seeing the hesitant look on the man's face Joe gave him a playful shove, "come on man McMahon would kill for this footage, hell we might even get a raise", he coerced. The lore of money was enough for his overworked and underpaid coworker.

They spent the entire night watching the horsemen party; or rather they watched Viluppo and Guerra party and Morte watch with a pleasant smile from the table she sat at. The two men were about to give up when someone actually came up and asked the eldest horseman to dance to one of the slower songs. That someone was the Undertaker. Jack and Joe nearly fell over on themselves as they watched Morte accept. "Where the fuck did he come from"?! Jack could only nod dumbly in agreement at Joe's assessment. It was a well know fact that the deadman didn't go to places like this. And yet here he was, dressed in a well cut blue button down shirt and tight black jeans.

Quickly Joe raised his camera, recorded the surprised reactions of Morte's siblings before turning his camera on the dancing couple. It wasn't lost on either Jack or Joe how easily the Phenom whipped Morte around the dance floor, nor how easily the darkest horseman followed his lead as they spoke. They were too far away to hear and they didn't dare get any closer for fear of getting caught. On the dance floor Abeebah ignored the stares of her siblings boring into the back of her head and instead regarded her dance partner searchingly. "I didn't know you could dance old man", Abeebah teased, her mind flashing question after question that she did not ask.

Taker's gaze stayed locked on hers, "I have many talents". Patiently he waited for Abeebah to give voice to the burning demand in her eyes. However the question never came as the eldest horseman knew how to play this game and played it well. She kept the conversation between them light and outright teasing using her natural charm and acrobatic wit to outwait the uncomfortable air between them. After a few more minutes of conversing and dancing, Mark finally determined that Abeebah wasn't going to crack. "I'm surprised to see you in a place like this", he finally gave her a window of opportunity to ask.

Abeebah didn't think twice, "I got dragged here, would have been kicking and screaming but I have a reputation to protect, what's your excuse". Amusement wafted off the deadman, but it was gone just as it appeared; "No one would think to look for me here". He wasn't going to tell her that he had also met someone here and had spotted her and her siblings. Abeebah could feel him leaving something out and it was good as lying to her face, "don't Mark, just don't, if you're going to lie just don't tell me anything at all".

Taker's eyes grew cold but he didn't say a word. Delia and Brandon watched their' sister's interaction with the deadman from the dance floor, only catching snatches of conversation as they whirled passed. Neither of them was stupid enough to try and interfere with what was going on between the two but they would keep watch from a safe distance. They knew that Abeebah needed to deal with Undertaker on her own. When it became apparent that the two were no longer speaking both Brandon and Delia were confused but made no move to cut in.

Suddenly Taker stopped mid-stride, "come with me". The darkest horseman looked up at him with raised brows. Her mind screamed at her not to trust him but her bitch slapped her mind with resounding force. "Lead the way". Not waiting for Abeebah to change her mind Taker led her away from the dance floor and out the front door, her hand still in his. Brandon and Delia didn't follow. However Joe and Jack weren't so wary. "Get the van Jack", hissed Joe as they slipped out of the side entrance unnoticed. The cameraman ducked around the corner to follow the retreating couple with his lens. Undertaker was lead Morte to a dark truck that ne had parked not far from the club.

* * *

Joe recorded the entire time, intrigued by the gentlemanly way that the Phenom treated the younger woman as he opened the passenger door for her. What surprised him the most was the reticent young woman didn't seem to mind the deadman's behavior. There wasn't anything to really suggest any interaction to actually suggest anything beyond casual acquaintance but then Joe seriously doubted that either of the wrestlers would be very demonstrative.

He heard a car pulling alongside of him and lowered his camera to see Jack beckoning him to hurry up. Lowering his camera he got in the van excitedly buckling his seat belt and all but hissed at his partner when they didn't immediately begin tailing the deadman and his 'date'. Jack glared at him anxiously, "I'm not getting killed cause' you were so God damned impatient". Joe scowled but didn't argue with him. In the truck Mark had covered Abeebah's eyes with her golden shawl and then started the engine. The eldest horseman didn't protest even in her angered confusion.

She could feel the miniscule nervousness escaping whatever block Mark had on his heart. He had something he needed to express to her but he wouldn't do it if he were gainsaid in anyway. This was a trait about her silent companion that she had come to expressly despise. The former red head was a control freak if Abeebah ever knew one. It was what caused him to ignore Kane and allowed Paul to manipulate him. It was what caused him to close himself off from her.

And whether she admitted it or not, Abeebah hated being cut off from either of the brothers. So she endured the makeshift blindfold, for them, she endured many things that she thought she'd never have the patience for. Mark glanced at Abeebah from the corner of his eye, surprised that the glacial woman hadn't taken the 'blindfold' as soon as he put it on. He had imagined her fighting him, demanding answers he wasn't ready nor willing to give. The girl was control freak if he ever met one, always cool and in 'the driver's seat' as it were, even in the seemingly uncontrollable situations.

But now she didn't seem so cold, but then again she had the very fires of hell burning in her soul. It melted some of the frost and steel that made Abeebah essentially Abeebah. Somehow she seemed more fragile in this state, more womanly, passionate and hot blooded. Her connection to Kane saw to that. And seeing her in the dress didn't help either. Abeebah knew he was staring and had a vague idea what he was thinking but grit her teeth against the automatic retort that begged to be unleashed. He was so focused on hers and Kane's changes that he didn't recognize his own. They were all changing for better or for worse. Mark was becoming more evasive, a pale looming shadow to his former intense self.

Abeebah lost track of time as she sunk deeper into herself in order to escape the oppressive presence that was her bond mate. It did little of anything save to distort the passage of time. Finally the world came back into focus as the truck came to a jerky stop. Without her eyes to guide her, the eldest horseman used her other senses to get a feel of where they were. The air was moist and cold; Abeebah could smell the grass even before she heard the door open. She felt Mark grasp her hand and helped her out the car.

Gravel protested under her sandaled feet as she was led along by her hand. Absently Abeebah traced the tattoos on Mark's wrist fascinated even more now that she couldn't see them. She didn't even acknowledge the car door slamming behind her. Mark led her into the grass before moving out of her grasp and finally removing the 'blindfold'. Abeebah fought back a gasp, a pair of simple tombstones stood solemnly before her. And by their' side was an even smaller pair of twigs fashioned together in a shape of a cross. It didn't take a genius to figure out who graves they were. "Ah, deadman you shouldn't have we haven't even been on our first date yet", the dark beauty said dryly.

Unable to help himself, Mark snorted, "smart ass", and handed Abeebah her shawl before seating himself in front of the graves. "You wouldn't have me any other way", she told him, 'and we both know it'. He ignored her statement in favor of the graves as he brushed away stray pieces of dirt from their' faces. He reached out his hand for his unmoving companion. Once again unthinkingly she took his hand and he pulled her down to sit opposite of him and facing away from the graves. "What did you feel when your parents died", he asked her. Abeebah shrugged, "do you want the honest answer or the one that's going to make you feel better"? It was Mark's turn to be sarcastic, "an honest answer would most appreciated".

"I didn't know what to feel when they were gone, so in truth I felt nothing", the dark skinned beauty cocked her head. Mark searched her eyes and found nothing but cold truth there. He didn't know whether that made her as much of a monster as he or not. Abeebah dropped her gaze plucking at the blades of grass at her fingertips, "odd thing bout' monsters, what makes us truly monsters is more human than anyone ourselves included care to believe". Startled green eyes bore holes into the curtain of hair that blocked Abeebah's face from his view.

Suddenly he found himself wanting to see 'her', wanted to see the woman Abeebah so desperately tried to hide. But what right did he have to force vulnerability onto her when he was guilty of the very same thing. Cursing himself for the sudden weakness in his resolve Taker swept the diva's hair away from her face exposing the scar that had fascinated him since the moment he met her. Docilely Abeebah let him, allowing the contact that she had starved for, silently relishing in the chaste kiss he bestowed upon her brow, confessing with their' hearts what they couldn't speak aloud even in the sanctuary of the graveyard. Neither of them knew that they were being watched through the scope of a camera lens.

* * *

"My God Joe we're gonna be rich, Taker and Morte? Deadman and the first lady? The prince of darkness finally found a princess", Jack had all but wet himself as he and his partner watched and listened to the unawares couple's every word. Joe was smiling crookedly at him from where he lay behind another grave, "hey did I call it or what", the obese cameraman whispered back, "Let's get this to McMahon immediately". Joe made a move to get up and cap his camera only to be stopped by Jack. "What"? "Let's not get ourselves killed before we can get it to McMahon", Jack hissed fiercely nodding his head toward the now standing couple.

They froze waiting to see if they would be noticed only to sigh in relief when the couple merely walked away. "Jesus that was close", Joe hissed finally stopping the tape so that he could cap the camera. Jack had a hand over his heart trying to fruitlessly stop its frantic pounding. 'That was too close', he decided having seen Undertaker's 'temper tantrums' on more than one occasion to known that following him wasn't the smartest idea. But the beckon of money had overcome common sense and for once he was glad for it. "Now, let's get this to McMahon".

* * *

Unforgiven was upon them and the four horsemen had come to play. All them came dressed in their' ring attire, ready and relaxed. Or at least at peace in Abeebah's case, she couldn't really relax with the questions written across Delia and Brandon's eyes. They hadn't told Evan of the encounter and for that Abeebah was thankful but also wary. Two matches had already occurred before their' arrival. First were Faarooq, Ken Shamrock and Steve Blackman versus the nation of domination and then Triple H versus Owen Hart for the WWF European championship. Abeebah didn't have time to ask who won what seeing as the backstage immediately ushered she and Brandon to the gorilla position just off stage. "They're not allowed ringside", one stagehand informed them.

Under her mask Abeebah scowled, "why"? The stagehand flinched, "Mr. McMahon's order Ms. Morte". Her three younger siblings growled, "McMahon". "Are you two going out together", asked a sound technician hurriedly. "Yeah, que Guerra's music", Abeebah said as levelly as she could manage. She didn't want to frighten the backstage crew anymore then they had already. The stagehands were acting stranger than normal, and she wasn't oblivious to the looks she had been receiving ever since her and her siblings had entered the arena. Brandon gave her a quizzical look. "My music is creepy, yours will make them wet their' selves immediately".

Her brother snorted and turned his attention to their brother and sister, "go back to the hotel ain't the use in stick'n round here". Delia crossed her arms with a raised brow, "And if anyone tries anything-" "We'll brake them", Abeebah cut in without remorse, "go". Having more sense than his sister, Evan grabbed Delia's hand and dragged her away. The two eldest horsemen watched them go as the music box melody of Brandon's music began. "Come on", she turned and stalked to the curtain not even waiting for her brother to follow. And as always the cheers were deafening and she had to stop in order to reorient her senses. She could feel Guerra stepping up to stand besides her lowering his shoulder slightly to bump into hers.

Morte tilted her head in acknowledgement knowing that he couldn't see her smile nor hear her voice above the roaring crowd. And together they made a relaxed descent to the ring. "AND MAKING THEIR WAY TO THE RING, REPRESENTING THE FOUR HORSEMEN, FROM PHILADELPHIA, MORTE AND GUERRA". Ricky Morton stood in the ring with his tag partner and friend watching the approach of their' young opponents. And young they were from what the stats that they had gotten from McMahon were anything to go by. The eldest Morte who easily stride and predatory grace had Morton uncomfortable was only twenty years old and her eldest younger brother was only younger by six months.

Though hidden behind the mask and the way she carried herself no one would know it, Ricky supposed that's why the deadman was attracted to Morte. She carried herself like a queen both in and out of the ring. Everyone had saw the footage of them in the graveyard earlier that night and it was on everybody's lips that the first lady of the horsemen had ensnared the prince of darkness. This put him and his partner in a very dangerous position if it were true that Taker and Morte were more than friends. "So what do ya think", Ricky glanced at his partner Robert.

Robert shook his head backing away as the two sibling slipped into the ring. Guerra flipped over the top rope while Morte rolled under the bottom one. The flashing strobe light made the entrance more disorienting, making it seem as if they were appearing and disappearing with each movement. "You start off Rick, I wanna take the big mofo over there", Robert cocked his thumb toward the younger horseman as the lights finally returned to normal. "You sure buddy", he asked teasingly, "don't want to go toe to toe with the Mrs. Taker"? "Excuse me gentlemen, but whom are you referring to", Ricky turned his attention Morte who was watching them curiously through her mask.

She seemed genuinely curious, polite and regal even as they were about to wrestle. It only lent to the reason why she was given the moniker of first lady. "Well, actually you little Miss", the platinum blond informed her, his southern manner's making them known. Morte's eyes became slits as glowing amber pits stared at him with bare flashes of emotions too quick to catch. "And what would give you the idea that Undertaker and I were involved". Ricky struggled to hold his ground under the younger wrestler's scrutiny and barely heard the bell ring.

"W-w-well Miss e-e-e-everyb-o-dy seen da footage of ya'll to-to-gether". Something in the horseman's eyes changed became colder, damning in the lowest sense. Without even knowing it Ricky backed away. "Thank you for clearing that up, now you'll have to forgive me", Ricky began to quake as Morte's voice picked up a metal grating quality, "because I am going to beat the high holy hell out of you". Before the two- hundred- pounder could even move Morte was all over him, elbowing him repeatedly in the head and in the ribs.

The referee called for a break up and Rick foolishly thought he could mount an offense. He caught a left hock in the jaw as soon as Morte had created enough space for it. The crowd groaned in sympathy as they all heard the bone protest being nearly dislodged. The referee admonished Morte or at least tried as one look from the eldest horseman sent the poor official scrambling in the other direction. The without preamble she managed to drag Rick's carcass to the middle of the ring and apply a leg slicer, a compression hold that Abeebah was adept at using on a regular basis.

The unholy glow in her eyes told the entire story and although against his better judgment Rick did not tap even as the slicer was synched in. From his corner Brandon watched his sister's shift in mood in earnest, knowing that in all likelihood she was going to probably permanently damage the other wrestler. But there was nothing he could do with Abeebah holding one half of the Rock and Roll express at bay in the middle of the ring and the blond man's partner didn't seem stupid enough to interfere.

Robert was pacing out on the apron, nervously combing his hand through the thick mop of his hair. "Come on Ricky", he called out in encouragement. But his encouragement wasn't enough to break Morte's iron grip on the blonde's leg which was being stretched beyond its limit. He tried rolling over to relieve some of the pressure, she just synched it in tighter, he tried to get to the ropes but Morte didn't give an inch. Rick was near tears trying to figure out how to get Morte to let go. And then, "Morte look out", not thinking twice Abeebah let go and rolled over.

And narrowly avoided being hit in the back of the head with a chair, a man just a few inches taller than Brandon stood over Rick. The referee had already called for the bell disqualifying Ricky and Robert, who had jumped into the ring to help his fallen comrade. But the man who just attempted to take Abeebah apart was already hopping out of the ring Brandon in hot pursuit. The Rock and Roll Express retained their' title, "Somebody wants to die tonight", she growled rising to her feet. "That was Bodacious Bart", she didn't even glance Robert's way.

* * *

Abeebah found her brother pacing in the parking lot, his face red in fury and his knuckles clinching and unclenching as he moved. She didn't even acknowledge the camera following her every move. "Where's the sorry some' bitch", she hissed. "He hopped in a car and Porky pig drove his yella' ass on", Brandon snarled back. The darkest horseman nearly lost it then and there. McMahon had set them up, and he was going to pay dearly for it. "Come on, us and McMahon is going to have a nice lil' chat, hopefully we'll break every scheming bone in his godforsaken body". Brandon easily followed his sister bad intentions on the horsemen' minds'.

Back in the arena everyone watched the drama with awe and excitement. This was a side of Morte they had never seen before. Definitely more aggressive and more attitude, it felt as Morte was becoming more real to them as a person. Where as she was untouchable before the showing of the graveyard footage now they understood a least a small bit about her. And the fact that even the ever calm stoic leader of the horsemen could lose her temper lent to the image Vince was concocting. From the locker room he was occupying Undertaker watched the drama as well.

He could feel Abeebah's shattering temper cutting deep into his darkening heart. There had to be more to his 'friend's' loss of temper than losing tag titles that she didn't even want or even the footage that had found it's way to Vince McMahon's hand. Which, the deadman was sure was the manipulative businessman's attempt to make them an on screen couple. It wouldn't be the first time it happened. But something was definitely off if both Guerra and Morte had lost all patience. However Undertaker wasn't going to intervene he had his own problems to deal with.

The deadman wasn't the only one to feel Abeebah's rage. Like everyone else Kane had seen the footage from the night at the grave. However unlike everyone else he recognized that there wasn't anything 'romantic' in the way that Mark and Abeebah were touching each other. In fact the quite picturesque scene was one of simple comfort between two similarly lost souls. 'A picture you belong to', something in his mind whispered to him even over the whiny grating pitch of his 'father's' voice. Kane ignored it, raging that someone would comfort his brother after all he done. Again the voice questioned him, 'and what about all that you have done? Did she not comfort you even after your own transgressions'? Kane ignored it once more.

* * *

The night went on, unable to find McMahon anywhere Brandon had to beg and plead Abeebah to leave the arena lest she commit mass murder because someone worked up the nerve to call her deadman's bitch. She reluctantly did finally recognizing that in the state they were both currently in that they would likely get arrested for just that. Vince who knew what was going to happen all along had made he and his entourage scarce and had camera's follow the siblings until they were gone. Two more matches had occurred while they had ducked and dodged the millionaire's employees.

First was Luna with her equally odd and twice as cruel boyfriend Golddust against Sable in an Evening gown match. Luna won because her significant other Mark Mero distracted her. Luna tore off the cat's dress without compassion. Then there was the WWF tag team championship. It 

was L.O.D (A/N: legion of doom for the poor unfortunate few who don't know) against the New Age Outlaws. Per usual the Outlaws cheated shamelessly and picked up the victory. Now the crowd was pumped and ready for the fight they had been waiting for all night even more so than Stone cold defending his title from Dude Love ne: Mankind.

They were anticipating to see the first ever Inferno Match. The climax of a brutal family reunion between Undertaker and his 'little' brother Kane would finally come to a head here. Suddenly the arena was plunged into total darkness and the crowd went wild when they heard the organ sound from the titantron. A wall of fire shot out from the floor, dropping just as quickly bathed the arena in red light and walking with a slow purpose Kane came out from behind the curtain.

Paul was not far behind. Kane was surprised, the crowd was cheering. What were they cheering for, he had come to destroy their' precious prince of darkness. Didn't they understand he cared nothing for them? That their' approval wasn't anything special to him? He who had suffered without cause because people refused to see a broken little boy the world had thrown away instead of a 'big red retard' or 'a French fried freak' or even 'a big red machine'. They were as much a monster as he for taking pleasure in others' suffering.

'And he will suffer', Kane assured the searing hatred in his gut. Getting into the ring and ignoring the cheering crowd Kane raised his arms. Then fiercely bringing them down, he watched as the pyros in the turnbuckles go off causing those watching to gasp. The pyros burned themselves out and once again the arena was plunged into darkness. This time it was bells that sounded from the titantron and the presence of the deadman seemed to chill the very air. Vaguely Kane could hear his portly benefactor wailing as if in pain.

He didn't even turn around, the fat fuck wasn't really in pain he was just adding theatrics that Kane wouldn't. Purple light flooded the arena and Undertaker made his slow entrance. His eyes were locked on Kane's. They were cold, flat in his confusion as what to feel, what to think. Kane didn't want that, he wanted his brother's fury, wanted his agony to sing along with his own. He wanted Mark to not be able to move from the sheer amount of it. Kane rose his chin watching silently as his elder sibling mounted the steps. The stagehand's had wetted both their' manes with a fire retardant so as to not singe the "best hair in the biz". It had a strange effect in making Mark's hair appear black. The color didn't suit him at all due to his natural pallor.

Stepping into the ring Taker still held his eyes, searchingly. Kane didn't know what he was looking for but he wouldn't find it. His heart was closed to both of his bond mates. Finally giving up Undertaker dropped his eyes and removed his jacket hardly paying attention as he threw it over the top rope. The fire trench that had been set up under the ropes earlier was now set alight. Both Calloway brother's eyed the flames before turning their' attention back on each other. They both stepped into the center of the ring, eyes locking once more. Mark's eyes were questioning his brother's again unable to reach Glen mentally. His answer came in the form of a punch in the face.

It wasn't long before Kane had him a corner and his little brother wailed away as Taker covered up as best he could. Unceremoniously he pushed the big red machine back. It wasn't enough to knock him down but it was enough to make the big man stumble. Taking advantage the Phenom let his fist fly, getting his brother close enough to a turnbuckle to grab his hair and forcefully shove his face into it. Elbowing Kane in the throat and then punching him in the mask, Taker Irish- whipped him across the ring.

Or at least he tried. Mid-whip Kane reversed it sending him careening into the turnbuckle. Kane followed him in, smashing further into the corner. The auburn haired man fell to a knee and immediately grabbed the second rope to lever himself up. It turned out not to be the best idea because the big man practically on top of him now used the second rope to choke him with one hand while he pushed his face to the fire with the other. Frantically Taker struggled trying to push away from the very hot fire that was beginning to singe the hairs inside his nostrils.

Finally after repeated elbows to his brother's gut Taker was able to knock Kane off and scramble away from the flame. Kane was on his feet before he could take advantage. Once again Taker went to punching the behemoth, trying to create an opening that just wasn't there. Kane took each hit as if they were nothing and threw some of his own. Back and forth back and forth the match went on with neither brother able to get a clear advantage over the other. Taker had even gone so far as to do an old school just to get Kane off his feet. The attempt was unsuccessful.

A clothesline knocked Kane over the top rope but he was still able to land on his feet, leaving his brother still inside the ring. Then Kane saw him, rushing toward him foolishly was Vader. Turning his attention away from his brother Kane met the four-hundred-pounder with a closed fist to his eye. They exchanged blows ignorant of what was going on behind them. That is, until they came tumbling down with all three-hundreds some odd pounds Undertaker descending upon them. The Phenom was the first one up, narrowly avoiding being hit by a chair Paul had conspicuously retrieved. The man of the darkside grabbed it and turned to see Vader already retreating into the crowd just as they agreed at the dungeon.

And just as Kane was about to turn around Taker hefted the steel chair and solidly hit him over the head with it. As hard headed as Kane was, single minded in his drive, he went down, leaving his 'father' to deal with the reaper. Deadman knew that he would be up soon and that they would be at it again but until then he would take a measure of retribution out of Paul's hide. He dropped the chiar and turned his attention the reason for all the lies and torment throughout his life. The fat man wattled up the ramp, calling for Kane to get up and save him.

Undertaker scowled fiercely at the gall and cowardess of Bearer, backing him onto the stage where musicians had played earlier. Where the instruments were still there. Grabbing the largest drum, Taker slammed it down on Bearer's head making the obese waste of space fall. Then taking a mic stand the red head bashed it repeatedly until his arms could do it no longer. He put all the years of loneliness and self loathing to every strike until there was nothing left.

It was a measly token of suffering that Taker had taken out of the big man's hide but it was a start. The deadman left him there, going back down the ramp the green eyed demon of death valley was confronted by Kane. The big man was on his feet and a steel chair in hand raised and ready to crash down on his head. Too tired to raise his fist, Taker planted his boot in his brother's chest pushing him back and knocking him into the fire trench. Kane immediately dropped the chair, his arm was on fire. Rushing past his brother the big red machine rushed offstage. Taker got back in the ring as the bell was rung signaling him as the victor. Kneeling, he grieved, there were only losers in this match as far as he was concerned.


	10. Though I walk through the Valley

It had only been twenty four hours removed from Unforgiven and everyone was still abuzz about what happened. Austin was still champion after hitting McMahon over the head with a steel chair. Vince was beside himself in rage that the title couldn't change hands and the horsemen were enraged with the cards their' fellows had been dealt by their' employer. It was already in the works that Brandon and Abeebah would be having a hardcore match on Raw. There was nothing they could do seeing as the contract dictated that all matches were determined by the higher ups. But that didn't stop Abeebah from calling a meeting with Linda McMahon.

Vince had, in his eagerness to show the world Morte's private life; made a grievous oversight in the contract which he had signed the horsemen to the WWF. And the eldest horseman was going to take full and unadulterated advantage of this oversight to make him pay. It was this mentality that drove the darkest horseman to call the McMahon matriarch as soon as she and her brother returned from Greensboro Coliseum and what drove her to get up even with the emotion and physical exhaustion early the next morning and what drove her now that she was sitting before Linda herself, acting like she normally did distant yet courteous despite her rage.

Linda eyed her husband's employee behind the raised rim of her tea cup. Abeebah seemed to be paying her no mind as she drank from her own cup. Dressed in Indian beige silk the newest diva of the WWF seemed perfectly at home in the high class restaurant that Linda had chosen for this meeting. "So what has my husband done this time", she said finally setting aside her tea. A scarred brow raised as Abeebah too put her beverage aside, "Mr. McMahon breech privacy clauses often"? The dark diva easily picked up the involuntary twitch in Linda's hand that so badly wanted to be a flinch. "I'll take that as a no", Abeebah stated leaning back in her seat, "really I should be calling a lawyer ready to sue-"

"But you're not because you're smarter than that, you know that you can't get much of anything if you sued", Linda mused allowed. Abeebah gave her a chilling smile, "you are of course right, and the fact that Vince in his arrogance would try something else does leave me at in impasse". The dark eyed woman raised an eyebrow at the young woman's eloquence. There were hints of it during their' first encounter but now it seemed to blossom before Linda's eyes. "Of course, the true question is why you came to me"?

"Because unlike Vince", Abeebah's false smile dropped unceremoniously, "you will keep your word as I will keep mine". Linda's dark eyes bore into the eldest horseman's but only found her own reflection staring back at her. "You know-", "That you're scheming to wrestle the family business from your power hungry not to mention adulterous husband? Yes I know". Linda lifted her cup and took a sip letting the lavender scent soothe her. Setting it aside once more the sandy haired woman regarded her with a new respect, "yet you didn't use this information, why"? Abeebah held back the urge to roll her eyes, "I'm not power hungry Mrs. McMahon, and I'm a firm believer in staying out of business that isn't mine".



Her eyes grew hard as diamonds, "however Vince trespassed and I am not a merciful being by any stretch of the imagination". "So its revenge, is that what you want"? Any other time Abeebah would not have answered but something told her if she wanted to get what she wanted from the elder woman she was going to have to answer. "No, what I want is a quite tenure in your fine company but since Vince made that impossible I'm stuck doing damage control". Linda made an agree noise in the back of her throat.

It made sense from what little she knew of the young woman. Abeebah Johns was a rarity in the business, hell she was a rarity to the human race. And it was for this reason alone that she would help the girl, "Then my question to you stands as this, what is it that you need"? "An iron-clad contract is all I really require the rest I can do myself", Abeebah said with an almost giddy feeling trying to fight its way into her heart. It was Linda's turn to raise a brow, "good because that's about all I can give you, I don't think I would be able to extend the same to your siblings". "About that", Abeebah sighed, "all Vince really can do in retaliation is to them is send them in matches he know they won't win so-".

Linda got a Cheshire cat grin, "I'll make a new clause in their' contracts, the higher ups may make the matches but your siblings have to agree to them, Vince won't be able to fire them if they refuse". The eldest horseman held back a sigh of relief; it would make it much harder for McMahon to use them as a means to get her under control. Taking a sip of her tea Abeebah lowered her lashes in a lazy look of patient predator, "so how long will it take for the new contracts to be in effect"? Linda's smile was her answer.

Kane sat on his current bed nursing the burns of defeat on his left arm. Ironically he was thankful to have fought his brother and a way proud that he had lost to him. _'There's no shame in losing a fight, but there's no honor in not fighting at all'_, Mark had once told him after a particularly bad day when they were still children. Frustrated, the big man shook his shaggy head his brunette curls flying every which a way even as he compressed ice to his bandaged arm. Glancing over at the bed just two feet away from his Paul Bearer lay comatose. Undertaker had beaten him, badly.

But not badly enough for the obese bastard to need medical attention, 'a pity', Kane thought viscously. It was ridiculously easy to ignore the abrasive sting of the ace bandages against his seared flesh. Pain was a constant in his life and this was no different. Or at least he tried to tell himself that as phantom screams of his hated/loved parents' screams echoed in his head. Kane didn't hear his past self's screams, he had stopped years ago. No one was coming to help him. Grunting the big man got to his feet. He needed to get some fresh air.

The chrisom demon left the room and made his way to the weight room. He cocked his head in surprise when he saw Guerra there. The light-skinned boy was different, Kane tilted his head further. The horseman seemed more feral. His green gold eyes were mindlessly set in front of him as he curled ten pound dumbbells, his lips pulled back into a scowl. Not calling attention to himself Kane went over to the bench press and adjusted it so that he started at thirty pounds.



And began to lift, or tried to seeing as the pins and needles feeling shooting up his arms nearly caused him to lose grip of the weight. Suddenly a pair of hands was there and steadying his grip but not taking the pressure off of his arms. Kane looked up into amber flecked green eyes, "Need a spot"? Almost automatically the big red machine nearly reached for the young man's throat. He had albeit unintentionally implied that he was weak. But once again he was stopped by the spiny pain in his arm.

Brandon ignored the sudden twitch knowing that if he could Kane would attack him. But much like with Abeebah's aversion to anyone getting close to her throat, Brandon simply didn't give a damn. Danger was the norm in the Johns household and so he didn't take offense in the big man's ire in the least. Slowly he allowed some of the weight rest on the older man's arms, slowly the weights lowered and Brandon could see the glint of pain reflect in Kane's eyes. He didn't stop until the weights nearly touched Kane's chest. Grunting, the brown haired man pushed up, lifting with Brandon's help once more.

The entire time the light-skinned horseman helped him Brandon didn't say a word. There really wasn't anything to say, Kane much like Abeebah couldn't and or wouldn't stand verbal reassurances. So Brandon would help him recover strength from the mild burn by helping Kane lift weights. This was good enough in Brandon's opinion. They continued the workout for awhile finally setting into a comfortable rhythm that both of them were comfortable with. Then Bearer came calling. "KANE"!! Immediately Brandon lifted the weights to the holster and went to the door. He wasn't stupid enough to stick around for the fireworks sure to follow.

Slowly Kane sat up, waiting even as Brandon made a hasty retreat. His arm was all but screaming in pain but at least he could no longer hear his parents screaming. Paul burst into the gym moments later his fat jiggling each which a way under heavy bandages. Under his mask Kane grinned. However it dropped as soon as Bearer decided to reacquaint him with his strident voice, "There ya are son' A've been look'n all over fer ya".

Dark curls descended over his masked face as he lowered his head, concealing his eyes. Arrogant fool that he was his obese 'father' took this as a sign of submission. "You failed me Kane", Bearer's beady eyes glared, "it was your chance to FINISH HIM AND YOU FAILD". Kane didn't bother to conceal the full body flinch caused by the fat man's abuse of his eardrums. And like always Bearer made simpering noises as if he were still a child stroking his hair, acting as if he were actually comforting him. It made the big red machine sick to his stomach that he allowed it happen, to allow himself to be belittled.

"Don't cha worry none son yes indeed we gonna get that red headed no good sonofabitch back if it's the last thing I do". 'Oh it will be the last thing you do, I promise', Kane thought with no shortage of hatred. In the end he would be free, Bearer would be dead, and his brother would pay for his crimes past. The red headed man still held him even as Kane didn't relax in his arms. This was a well used abuse, adding insult to injury.



No one else would dare touch him out of kindness without wanting to use him and Kane knew it. The big man once again ignored the voice in the back of his head calling him all kinds a liar. Finally Bearer let him go. "Now A've got a plan an we gonn hafta go to the doc's place", Bearer's voice became thicker with his southern accent a sure sign of his plotting. Kane just stared at him, still as the dead and rage burning in his gut. Paul's schemes were methodical and viscous but more often than not poorly executed. This one promised to be no different than any other.

Brandon returned to his room, dodging his younger brother's eyes as he went. He knew what his little brother would say once he caught glimpse of his eyes. The second eldest wouldn't be able to keep what he had done from his intuitive sibling and he was in no mood for lectures. Throwing himself down on his bed Brandon let out a long sigh. From the corner of his eye Evan glanced at his second eldest sibling. Something was bothering him, the youngest Johns could tell by the tense set of his shoulders. But he didn't bother opening his mouth, the hazel eyed boy was dog tired himself and in no mood to weasel out whatever got under Brandon's craw.

They were soon joined by Delia, fresh from an almost all day long shopping trip. Apparently their' new 'status' in the world wrestling federation required that they look their' best all the time. Or so said the one known as Chaos among the horsemen however none of them really cared. They each did something to distract themselves from their' collective smoldering tempers at their' recent string of bad luck. Abeebah had gone off to see Linda McMahon but Evan seriously doubt the woman would help them even with the stuff he had been able to dig up on her when he started working closely under commissioner Slaughter. 'But then again', Evan thought with a quirk of his lips, 'Beebs can be down right suave when the mood strikes her'.

"Beebs come back yet", asked Delia dumping the bags onto Brandon's back. Her light-skinned brother let out soft curses but didn't move. Evan glared at her from over the book he was reading, "no". The youngest horseman bit off whatever else he wanted to say, there was no use in snapping. Delia took off her new sunglasses and put them on the TV cabinet. She wasn't quite ready to sit still yet, but there wasn't anything to do. Pacing didn't seem like a good idea seeing as both her brothers were still agitated. Glancing at them both she threw up her hands, "I'm gonna do some more shopping". Brandon and Evan's heads shot up, "the hell ya aren't". Crossing her arms Delia pouted, "And why not"?

"Because, not only do we need to lug all that shit around but if w let you you'd spend it all". All three of them turned to see Abeebah entering the room. Their' eldest sibling was dressed in her 'finer' suits. The Indian silk hugged her hips and thighs modestly for an a-line skirt. A matching short sleeved jacket contoured easily to her upper curves and offset the simplicity of her gray high heels. With Abeebah's chocolate mane pulled tightly into a bun she was the very epitome of tasteful businesswoman, which was the look she was going for. The eldest horseman strode further into the room. There was a lazy satisfaction to her gate, "Horsemen we have planning to do".



Monday night had come far too soon in the backstage crew's opinion. A week wasn't enough to settle the buzz of Unforgiven and all the juicy drama going around. The New Age Outlaws were the tag champs and Sable and Mero's relationship was on the rocks. Austin's chair shot to the boss's head would translate to trouble for them but seeing the jackass collapse was well worth it in their' opinion. But the most popular rumors did not revolve around the WWF champion. Those particular honors belong to the one and only Phenom himself, the Undertaker.

His budding romance with the leader of the horsemen was the talk of the town all week. Everyone thought they would make a striking couple indeed if they were together. More than one wrestler bemoaned at losing the chance of gaining the exotic beauty's attention. The divas gossiped about it all week. Perhaps finally having each other in their' lives would cause the reticent deadman and frigid queen to finally lighten up. It was a fragile hope that they all held on to but a worthy one in everyone's eyes.

However no one dared approach Undertaker when he came to the arena. As eager as they were all to know whether or not he and Morte were truly together none of them were stupid enough to approach him about it so soon after the Inferno match fiasco. Everyone was surprised when it was announced that Guerra and Morte would be having a hardcore match that very night. Some thought that it was in retaliation for not being there. Others thought McMahon had simply lost his mind. No one could have guessed that the four sibling had snuck in long before the show even started and were waiting to hatch their' plan to make Vincent Kennedy McMahon's life miserable.

It started with small incidents, a few missing pieces of equipment here or there, food in catering being spiked, and miner paperwork being tampered with. The stagehands had to inform McMahon of it and the millionaire sent Slaughter to see to whatever was going on. Leaving him alone with only a cameraman, Patterson, and Brisco in the locker room he had claimed as his 'base of operations'. What he didn't know was that he and his flunkies were not as alone as they thought. Suddenly and out of nowhere the lights went out. "What the he-", Patterson was cut off by the distinct feeling of chain meeting his face, tearing flesh as his eye was forced further back into the socket. Then another fist took the air from his lungs as it crashed into his solar plexus.

The cameraman was knocked off his feet, his camera sent flying. He didn't have a chance to get up before the heavy piece of equipment hit the back of his head breaking it instantly. The poor man was knocked out instantly and would probably have a concussion. Brisco wasn't in much better shape as he was somehow choked from behind, his feet dangling off the ground as whoever had Brisco lifted him off his feet. Blindly Vince tried to move and find the door to get out. Instead he had his feet swept right from under him. The millionaire slammed face first into the concrete. Instantly he covered his nose as he felt blood trickle down his nose. Suddenly a foot slammed down on the small of his back, a pop echoed throughout the room.



Vince couldn't hold back the scream of pain that welled in his throat if he tried. The sound was ignored. Brisco had passed out from the lack of oxygen going to his brain and he was unceremoniously dropped, the chain finally loosening enough to allow him to inhale. Patterson had long passed out from the pain from being beat over the head repeatedly but the beating continued despite it. "Enough". Like Brisco Patterson's head was unceremoniously dropped.

"You just had to spoil the fun do cha", Delia's voice floated through the room a bare threaded whisper. "There is a camera watching outside, I don't want ya'll getting caught", Abeebah hissed back quietly. Just as the younger woman was about to retort Evan's voice joined in, "you know she's right now come on". Unseeing eyes glared at his direction but the third born horseman didn't argue as she and her two brothers went to hide in the lockers. As she passed her elder sister Delia handed her the bloodied chain she had beat Patterson with. She didn't even have to see Abeebah's face to know that the dark skinned Johns had raised her eyebrows, "for dramatic effect", was her only explanation as she closed the locker door.

Behind her mask Abeebah smiled, then wrapping the tainted steel around her fist made her way to the door, stepping over broken bodies as she went. There was no turning back now. Once she walked out of that door and everyone saw Morte leaving behind the broken form of Vince McMahon and his lackeys the darkest horseman would be entering into an entirely new territory. Her grin became absolutely feral, 'bring it on bitches' and without another thought she carelessly opened the door and walked out. The cameraman flinched, startled by the sudden movement. Morte easily strode passed him making sure to swing her arm so that he could get a clear shot of the blood stained chain wrapped around her fist.

She paid no mind to the gasp of horror that soon followed. She was going to the ring. As she traversed the halls people seemed to part like the red sea as she went. Even the main event stars moved out of her way. A camera followed her as she went to the gorilla position. A meek stagehand stepped in her path just as she was about to go out to the ring. "Sorry Ms. Morte but Undertaker is already out there". She cringed sure that the diva would strike out. Instead the darkest horseman cocked her head, "tell the sound guys to que my music". Thinking that this was only reprieve she would have from the reticent diva the stagehand did just that. Inside the ring Undertaker was addressing the crowd about his fight with his brother.

It wasn't what the crowd wanted to hear about but he wasn't going to acknowledge the 'relationship' between him and Morte if he could help it. But then Morte's music began to play and the lights changed blue. Deadman turned toward the ramp watching as the subject on everybody's mind came from backstage. The sight of her nearly took his breathe away. Morte's ring attire was mildly disheveled; her hair usually braided into a high ponytail was now loose and falling around her mask and shoulders. Wrapped around her left fist was a steel chain drenched in blood. As she got closer Undertaker could see a chilly satisfaction in her eyes.



The lazy pace she set as she walked to the ring only added to the feeling that Morte had gotten whatever it was that she wanted. He didn't move an inch as she slid under the bottom rope and rolled to her feet. The darkest horseman moved to stand in front of him bringing a previously unnoticed microphone close to her masked face, "Sorry to interrupt, but I think you and I are going to have to make something very clear to everyone". Undertaker looked down upon her with a raised brow.

Jim Ross who had been questioning the Phenom before she had interrupted brought his own microphone to bear, "are you talking about the relationship between yourself and Undertaker"? Abeebah noticed the twitch her bond mate gave but didn't call attention to it. "If that's what everyone is calling it", her tone was borderline snide, "I'm going to say this once real loud and clear like, cause' motherfucker's are slow". Unable to help himself Taker snorted. Ross looked his way, surprised to hear the usually stoic man show any amusement.

"I am in no way Deadman's woman, girlfriend, or potential wife", turning her gaze to the acid green orbs staring at her, she found approval and amusement in Undertaker's eyes. "And the footage from the graveyard", asked Ross. A growl worked its way up the deadman's throat causing the Oklahoma cowboy to wisely back away. Behind her mask Abeebah smirked and she dropped the blood stained chain at his feet catching his attention instantly. "Funny that, I couldn't find the sorry asses who followed us but I did find the sorry ass that approved that footage to be shown". Something akin to horrid disbelief shown in Ross's face.

There was only one man in the entire company who had that authority. Casually Morte tapped her now free hand on her hip, "being the good friend that I am I left some for you". Taker's gaze never left hers. He knew what she was offering without words, it was more than he ever expected from her considering their' unique situation. It was more than he had offered her, which made him feel lower than dirt especially the solace Abeebah had provided in her arms that night in the graveyard. But then he thought about the entire duration in which he had known Abeebah.

She had been nothing but patient with him and his brother, wise and understanding both when it counted and when it didn't. Could he be friends with this woman, could he trust this horseman when more often times than not he was betrayed, would he accept the offer of loyalty that she lay at his feet? Not breaking eye contact Undertaker bent down and picked up the chain. Straightening he wrapped the blood stained links around his right fist as he stepped into Morte's personal space. With each pass he deliberately brushed his hand over her thick mane; the demon of Death Valley had made his decision.

Then he grinned, a slow sly mischievous look that should have been charming. Instead it damn near frightened the cameramen filming them and terrified Jim Ross. Morte was only slightly amused by the expression. And suddenly the lights went out blanking the arena in its icy grip. She knew he was gone before the lights even came back on. It didn't really matter they would find each other later. Letting the crowd get over their' shock Abeebah stood stock still.



It took awhile for everyone to settle down but when they did their' attention was solely focused on her. Morte didn't even bat a lash, "Now that that's out of the way I have something else to say". Seeing he was no longer needed Ross got out of the ring and back to the announce table where his partner Jerry "the king" Lawler was waiting. "I know many of you were looking forward to a hardcore match between me and my brother Guerra", the fans roared in approval at the mention of what was sure to be a great match, "it ain't gonna happen kiddies sorry".

She ignored the crowd's disapproval, honestly the darkest horseman didn't give a damn, "you see, about a couple weeks ago Vince called me and Guerra had a tag team title shot at Unforgiven". Morte paused as some of her earlier rage seeped out of her control. Fist curled tightly the eldest horseman felt the blood from the chain slide down her fingers. "But the stipulation was that if we lost than Guerra and I would have to face each other in a hardcore match". "And oh did we lose, not because we were being beaten, no we lost because some two brain celled numb nuts interfered, but ok I wasn't mad about that shit happens and I didn't want to go after the titles anyway".

Not for the first time a metallic grating against icy tang entered Morte's voice, "It was the stipulation that got me irritated because believe me if we ever go at Guerra and I would tear each other apart". A universal shiver ran up each and everyone who heard her spines'. "But then Vince made a very stupid mistake, he shown something that was not meant to be seen". Abeebah's grip on the microphone was tight, "breached privacy terms in my contract and now has not only pissed off the dead man; he has ticked off the most calculated mind of the horsemen, Guerra, the most vicious, Viluppo, and the most talented, Lue". "But the biggest mistake Vince made was pissing off the baddest of them all", her voice became calm soft once more, "Me".


	11. Of the Shadow of Death: Part I

Sinfully Sinned- Thank you for the compliment. It means a lot to me that people who read my stories enjoy them.

DariaM- And spoil the chase? Perish the thought, Taker and Abeebah are gonna need to come a long way before their' comfortable enough for public displays of affection. A little hint Kane is gonna help out with that a lot.

* * *

A/N: Thank you my dear reviewers and readers. Seems that I'm updating this story a lot faster than I normally would have time for, but now that I finally have some breathing room I can let my creative juices flow. So sit back relax and enjoy it's gonna be a wild ride. –Rei

* * *

There were few times in one Vincent Kennedy McMahon's life that he was wrong. When he brought Abeebah John's aka Morte the horseman to the WWF he knew it was a gamble. Hell the first time he met her, the danger was glowing coldly in her eyes. He knew there was risk in taking her as an employee, just as he knew there was risk in taking Stone cold as an employee, just as he knew taking Kane as an employee, and just as taking Undertaker as an employee. But for the sake of expanding his business and securing his legacy, Vincent Kennedy McMahon was willing to take those risks. And never ever in his life did Vince want to be so wrong so badly.

He had woken up just in the back of an ambulance, laying belly down and electrifying pain shooting up his spine with each jolt of the vehicle he was being transported in. "Mr. McMahon, you are on your way to the emergency room, do you remember what happened"? The dark haired millionaire gritted his teeth in agony, "I was attacked, by one of my wrestler's, Abeebah 'Morte' Johns". It hurt to speak as his nose twitched with every movement of his lips. The one attending him placed a pack of ice on his posterior only slightly easing the pain. "Well John's did a number on you sir; your nose is fracture and your tailbone broken".

Rage swelled in the McMahon patriarch's gut but he dare not move. "I want to press full charges". "Of course sir", the attendant ignored his foul mouthed ranting for the rest of the ride. It was easy enough to do seeing as the attendant had been similar situations often enough. Just enough pain killers calmed him down. However by the time they got to the hospital the attendant had an idea why this 'Morte' person would attack her boss. The man was a whinny bastard at best, manipulative asshole at worse. The painkillers had loosened the man's tongue even as he was wheeled into x-ray. Regardless, the attendant told authorities stationed at the hospital. Protocol had to be followed and he had no intention of losing his job.

However the attendant did tell them what McMahon 'let slip' in his drugged state. It didn't take much to convince the cops that the situation was instigated by McMahon. Even if the confession done under the influence of drugs the cops would take it into consideration even if the courts that would judge McMahon's employee wouldn't. This would at least give the wrestler a small reprieve. That is, if she cooperated. The attendant seriously doubted it would happen but he had done all that he could in this instance. The ball was in Johns's court now.



Back at the arena everyone was still in shock about Morte's announcement. The crowd hardly paid attention to Golddust versus Godfather match. Even as she left the ring and went to her own locker room where her siblings had somehow snuck into while no one was looking Abeebah was hounded. Interviewer after interviewer was sent packing with one severe glare each instance. Abeebah knew that the cops would be coming for her soon but knew better than trying to evade them. She would get her point across even if she had to go to jail.

'Screw with me and mine and heaven help the sorry bastard who tries'. Her siblings knew what was coming too and resolved to stand by her side regardless of her 'taking all the credit'. Most surprising somewhere along the line Undertaker had shown up. He no longer wore the bloody chain around his fist but he stood tall and menacing as ever. Without saying a word he took the spot opposite of Brandon almost directly in front of his older sister. Gratitude floated through their' link and the deadman allowed a slither of reassurance to leek from out of him.

A cameraman was with them when a host of officers came into their' locker room. Not so surprisingly the cops didn't go gun ho and just grab her. The threatening stances of her siblings and Taker were enough to assuage any ideas of that. However she didn't resist when she was put into cuffs and shot an amused look toward her siblings when they all growled in unison. The officers were very professional if not very wary of the four people surrounding the person they were sent to arrest. It was not the first time they had dealt with a wrestler but it was the first time that they had more than the perpetrator protesting the arrest.

But the suspect was quiet under there no so gentle ministrations. She didn't say a word as she was let to the back of the car. Didn't avert her gaze as the cameras recorded her receding image as she was driven away in the back of a cop car. She didn't even fidget in the uncomfortable interrogation chair they placed her once they had arrived at the station. And from the behind the two way mirror head interrogator detective Benet read the file that he had received from his counterparts in Philadelphia only moments earlier. "She hasn't moved an inch since they brought her in here", his partner Finnegan muttered beside him.

Benet didn't even glance up. He knew what he would see. A lowered masked face staring at the mirror as if she could see right through it, she hadn't changed position for two hours. "The guys in Philly said she was a smart killer, that one, her parents were found dead in a park, forensics ruled it a mugging but the detectives working the case said she had a fresh wound consistent with the knife her father tried to defend himself with". "Let me guess she had an alibi", snorted Finnegan.

"Johns had a lot more than an alibi", Benet handed him a part of the report, "she had solid evidence that put her away from the crime scene at the time of death". In Finnegan's hand was a copy of a ticket stub and a note saying that their' suspect was recorded entering the theater and not leaving until after the movie was over two hours later. Finnegan raised a brow, "And they still thought her guilty". "Ain't the first time she was under scrutiny", retorted Benet.



He handed his taller partner another piece of paper. "This one is a stone cold bitch if I ever saw one", Benet informed him, "got into plenty o' fights at school, creped out all her teachers". Finnegan raised a brow, "So ain't no reason to send in the troops, there's plenty of troubled kids in the world what's so special bout this one"? "This one beat three of her fellow classmates half to death; all ruled aggravated assaults she was sent to the shrink and threw even the best for a loop".

"So in short they really think she did it simply because she's an unknown", Finnegan summarized. Benet shot him another look, "don't be so hasty to dismiss suspicious especially with this stunt, I can see why she would go after McMahon, I heard about the way the treats his employees but the other three"? Finnegan, "Case of wrong place wrong time", he shrugged. Benet sighed and handed the rest of the papers to his partner, "doesn't matter now, when they wake up their' all gonna want to press charges". Finnegan snorted in agreement. The big man watched his partner enter the interrogation room and sit in the opposite chair of Johns. Benet turned on the recorder, "Ms. Johns do you know why you're here"?

Abeebah's posture didn't change, "yes". "Why"? This time she did raise her masked visage and Benet was confronted by the most gold eyes he had ever seen. "I am here because of the assault on a cameraman Pat Patterson, Jerald Brisco, and Vincent Kennedy McMahon". The reply much like the woman was cold, clean cut, and brutally precise. He knew that removing the mask that she wore would yield no more answers than her tone of voice had. They were both silent for awhile Benet thinking that he could outwait his prisoner. However Abeebah was perfectly comfortable sitting in silence staring a hole in the interrogator's head.

Seeing as he wasn't getting anywhere with the waiting game Benet laced his fingers, "look we know it was you who attacked them, we even have know why, all we need now to make your life easier is a how". Languidly Johns rolled her shoulders back so that when she tilted her head it popped. Benet fought back a flinch. "Hmm, well if it were me I require something quick clean stylish, considering, maybe take out the knees with a kendo stick, and go for the throat next, last but not least beat him just enough to be black and blue all over and leave him there". Benet frowned, she was playing with him. The description was consistent with her MO but not the crime committed. "Ms. Johns you do know the consequences of noncompliance".

Under her mask Abeebah was grinning widely even as she blinked owlishly, "Is that what this is, were the three gentlemen I was fantasying about putting a hurting on attacked in a different manner"? The interrogator forcefully relaxed his jaw and fought not to curl his hands into fist. "You know they were", the accusation was calmly stated but it was an accusation nonetheless. There hadn't been any blood on the woman's hands. They had even checked with a black light. No indications of her washing her hands recently or even the chain marks matching the indents around Brisco's throat. Abeebah knew what the man was thinking, and was for once grateful for being on the receiving end of her father's blood letting tendencies.



She knew very well how to get rid of blood or rather evidence in general. Evan had mad sure that the tapes of tonight wouldn't be given to the authorities. It didn't take much to convince the head technician to go along with the plan. Like most of his employees the technician was an unwitting victim of the elder McMahon's temper. The police were so focused on her that they hadn't even considered that maybe just maybe her siblings were in on the act.

Leaning forward Benet laced his hands together, "I can't help you if you don't help you Abeebah". The eldest horseman tilted her head annoyed that this man would dare try that second rate psychological bullshit on her. However she didn't give any indication of being agitated by him. "Well you'll forgive me but truly I have no idea why I'm here when according to you, you know that I did it and yet I am not in a cell awaiting trial, because I'm sure that Vince will press full charges". Benet was beginning to get frustrated. This girl wasn't giving anything away.

Trying to buddy, buddy with her didn't seem to work; neither did the threat of incarceration, or the fact that as soon as he was awake McMahon had incited her didn't change her demeanor in any way. And with no reactions either good or ill to grasp as a bases to build a case and no concrete evidence they would have to turn the woman loose. That is, after a twelve hour waiting period. Stopping the recorder Benet stood to his feet, and deliberately stepped away toward the door, making the suspect think about it. Abeebah didn't move not even as the door shut behind him. And a few minutes later Abeebah was escorted to the holding pin.

At the hotel three of the four remaining horsemen returned to their' rooms at the end of the show. The accelerating rush of beating on McMahon's cronies and avoiding getting caught had worn off into a comfortable lethargy. They weren't worried about their' sister, as Abeebah could outmaneuver any unwitting soul trying to weasel out of her that which she would not freely give. Now dressed in street clothes Undertaker followed the youngest horseman. The business savvy boy didn't know why he did it but was appreciative of the silent company the big man provided him in his sister's absence.

Brandon and Delia didn't question Undertaker knowing that the answers were slow in coming. They wished them both a good night and went to bed leaving Evan with him. They were going have to get up early to pick up Abeebah. When they got to the room he and Abeebah shared Evan packed the last of their' stuff in earnest. The WWF would be moving on to the next city in the morning and he would be traveling with the horsemen's stuff on one of McMahon's many buses while Brandon and Delia remained with Abeebah so that they could travel together.

"What was she like"? Evan glanced at his once silent companion. Undertaker was sitting on his sister's bed, watching him pack. The unwavering stare reminded him so much of his eldest sibling it was almost as if she were staring at him through the deadman's eyes. He shook his head, "She"? "Abeebah", the name felt so new on his tongue. Turning his attention back to packing the caramel-skinned child thought of how to describe his sister before she met the deadman. It was hard to reconcile what he knew then to the image of his sister that he knew now.



"She wasn't much different from now", he told the big man, "Always cold and in control even if it frustrated the rest of us to the point of considering murder". Something flashed across those jade orbs but Evan continued as if he didn't notice. "But she always took care of us", 'even when our so called parents wouldn't", he thought bitterly. Mark didn't have the heart to tell the little man that his sister had changed more than he thought. Evan looked at him cautiously, "What was he like"? Undertaker knew exactly whom the youngest horseman was referring to.

Glancing down at his lap the Phenom thought of better times when he and his brother were still knee high. It was a bare shadow of goodness in the darkness that swiftly and brutally followed. A shadow he could barely remember like slithers of light escaping through the cracks of his memories. "He was a lot less angry", Taker said lamely. Finally finished packing Evan sat on the bed opposite of Taker. He cocked his head, "was he less angry or did he hide it better"?

It was a practical question to ask considering that even if Abeebah couldn't lie worth a shit she could still be evasive as the wind when the mood struck her. Deadman's first reaction was to deny it venomously and become angry that Kane would be able to hide anything from him. But the glacial tendencies of Abeebah's analytical nature took over. The little man was right whether he wanted to admit it or not. From what little he could remember of the few happy times of their' childhood Glen's eyes always burned with a banked fire. But it was always there, always lurking.

Focusing back on the youngest horseman deadman noticed that Lue was no longer paying attention to him. Rather, he was lying down and staring at the ceiling with half lidded eyes. Lying down as well Mark thought of Abeebah's behavior when she was addressing the crowd about their' 'relationship'. He thought under the circumstances the eldest horseman did well but it would not stop others thinking they were a couple. 'Spilt milk', he thought to himself without any real venom. Whatever happened happened and they would deal with whatever came. "Think Abeebah can drive Vince to an early grave", Taker asked his silent companion. "One can only hope", a half smirk flitted across Evan's face.

Time passed quickly before anyone knew it the WWF was in the next city. Lue traveled with the superstars, and not been bothered by the whisperings that he heard amongst them. 'Let them wonder', he thought with no so little malice. In his eyes Evan thought that most of the wrestlers were arrogant and needed a wake up call. As big and as bad as they thought they were his sister was badder. He knew that he shouldn't really think like that seeing as Abeebah didn't care what others thought of her anyway but he couldn't help but to be indignant on her behalf. Vince had thought manipulate his sister into a very dangerous situation.

There was no doubt that the deadman's enemies would now go after her despite Abeebah making it abundantly clear she was not Taker's woman. As his eldest sister was fond of saying, "motherfuckers are slow". That was why Abeebah had gone after McMahon. It served as a warning to anyone who would try to mess with her or her siblings. But now that meant stepping out of the semi-peace that had somehow cultivated in the WWF.



Lue knew that none of his siblings were fools. Being in the WWF meant that you constantly had to prove you belonged there. And shamelessly, unthinkingly their' employer took advantage of that. It wouldn't change and they all knew that, all they could do was make sure McMahon never tried to do that with them again. The millionaire was still in the hospital from the beating he took last time. Which was good news for the horsemen seeing as he was less likely to retaliate.

* * *

A/N: P.S Sorry I didn't write more I was planning on it but unfortunately my own mother has poisoned me. Whatever she put in my food has me bedridden and I won't be able to write for a while if this keeps up. –Rei


	12. Of the Shadow of Death: Part II

A/N: Here's part two, sorry it took so long but I've been sick as a dog. Thank you all my readers, reviewers, and well wishers I'm much better now and back to finally putting to paper the ideas that's been stuck in my head.-Rei

* * *

Abeebah, Brandon, and Delia somehow made it to Nashville Tennessee where the WWF would be performing before most superstars and backstage crew. The hotel had already been notified that they were coming so the three horsemen didn't have to rent their' own rooms when they got there. It probably would have been the wiser choice to do so but all of them doubted that Vince would be up to retaliating anytime soon. Now garbed in nondescript sweats, the eldest horseman relaxed into the overly soft pillows of her bed eating from the plate of fruit Brandon had brought her. Abeebah's two younger siblings had beaten a hasty retreat as soon as she was settled. It didn't really matter to her. She would enjoy the peace while it lasted.

"B-b-b-r-r-r-r-i-i-n-n-g"!! Slowly Abeebah cast her dark eyes on the innocent looking telephone that sat on the unassuming nightstand beside her. Giving into the childish urge to throw a tantrum crossed her mind. It would be so easy just to throw the telephone out the window and then proceed to scream her lungs raw while rolling around on the floor. It was only a moment of serious consideration but in the end Abeebah decided against it. Putting aside the fruit she had been enjoying the eldest horseman picked up the receiver. "Hello", "Morte, this is Hilary".

Remembering the agreeable photographer's assistant Abeebah sighed, "Hey, what's up"? "You've been scheduled for a photo shoot by Mrs. Mahon". Abeebah sighed as she heard the nervous note injecting itself into the bubbly woman's voice, "Why do I get the distinct feeling I'm not going to like this"? Her suspicions were only confirmed by the pregnant pause that occurred before the blond finally worked up the nerve to answer her. The dark skinned beauty could practically picture the petite woman biting her lip and twirling her thumb around the phone cord. "There are a lot of people besides the small camera crew here". Abeebah pinched the bridge of her nose, praying for patience.

Hilary's reaction to her was not surprising. As much as Abeebah liked the young woman Hilary didn't really know 'her'. So there was no way for the assistant to know how to react to her when Abeebah revealed the more volatile aspect of her nature. Everyone except maybe Undertaker and Kane wouldn't be afraid and that was only because they were just as dangerous. Still, the eldest horseman couldn't stop a sliver of disappointment that crawled its way up her spine. "Where and when", Abeebah finally spoke ignoring the feeling for now. The assistant rattled off the address and time the shoot would occur and unceremoniously hung up when she was done.

Abeebah couldn't find it inside of herself to be anymore than mildly annoyed. Closing her eyes the darkest Johns fell asleep, unanswered questions amassing in her mind like a swarm of hornets. And this is how her youngest sibling found her a half hour later. The youngest horseman had ridden with the WWF convoy ahead of his siblings and was surprised to see her snoozing away in the bed closest to the door. Evan didn't want to disturb Abeebah's peaceful slumber.

* * *

So, carefully setting his and Abeebah's stuff inside the closet he left just as quickly as he came. He had to find his two other siblings anyway. Surprisingly it didn't take long to find them as they were just returning to the hotel from a nearby waffle house for a light lunch. Quickly they relocated to the room Brandon and Delia were sharing to find that the PA had put their' stuff there. "So how was your trip with the jock straps", asked Delia as soon as the door closed behind them. Her younger brother flopped down on the bed next to the radiator, "they never shut up".

He watched his brother sat next to Delia. The second eldest amongst them was more relaxed how than he had ever been in weeks. "So what's the word, any chance of anybody siding with McMahon", the light skinned wrestler asked. Evan gave a half grimace. "Some might, there were even a couple stupid enough to talk about it while I was around so I don't think we have to worry much". Brandon shook his head, "you forget what our esteemed sister taught us, shame on you Lue". "If you can count on anything in life it is on fear and stupidity", Evan rolled his eyes, "I know but ain't a lot of em' motherfuckers can hold a candle to us".

"I'm with Bran on this one, just cause Beebs got em' shit'n bricks ain't n reason to get sloppy", injected Delia in a rare moment of concern. Finally seeing the wisdom in his cohorts' argument Evan nodded. "It was bad there huh"? The two horsemen knew that their' younger sibling was referring to the jail that they had to retrieve their' sister from. Neither of them answered. At the TV stand Brandon noticed the two notes there. Grabbing them he gave the one addressed to quickly read them both and handed Delia hers. "So they finally decided to schedule the hell in a cell match"? "Keep your eyes open Delia cause I think I smell a rat all over that one", Brandon replied.

Evan looked as incredulous as their' sister felt, "I don't think that McMahon would be able to orchestrate anything from his hospital bed and we beat the living hell out of his two stooges too". The light skinned Johns couldn't help but to roll his eyes, "you're forgetting somebody". Simultaneously Delia and Evan looked at each other, "Slaughter". "Yes Slaughter, and any dumb son of a bitch stupid and desperate enough to help him" Delia groaned, "I knew we should've did him too". "Too late now", shrugged Evan, "we have to work with what we got and pray that is enough". Despite what the four horsemen and most if not all the wrestling world thought. Vince McMahon was not in a hospital sleeping off the beating he received.

* * *

Instead the businessman was on his way to Nashville, dividing his time with talking to his lawyers and Commissioner Slaughter. When he had first woken up in a hospital bed he was beside himself in rage half remembering the assault on himself, Brisco, and Patterson. Then the doctor came in and informed him that at best his wounds were not all that serious. His nose wasn't broken and neither was his tailbone. Rather his tailbone had to be popped back into place while only a few vessels in his nose were broken causing it to bleed. This only made him angrier seeing as Vince felt as if his lower back were hit with a sledge hammer and his face hurt like nothing before. The fact that the millionaire knew whom did this and was unable to get the culprit arrested only served to get further under his craw even further.

Apparently the cops didn't have any solid evidence that Ms. Johns had done anything but left his 'base of operations'. There was no blood on her, no chain, and no confession other than the urge to maim him. 'But we could hardly arrest her for that', the detective informed Vince when they came to visit him. The McMahon patriarch had glared at them as he crassly insulted them for not doing their' damn job and unceremoniously told them to get out of his room.

Much later he had called Commissioner Slaughter intent on firing Morte if he couldn't press charges on her. However his employee informed him that his use of the graveyard footage had earned the young woman an ironclad contract. This only sent the millionaire into another flight of rage. There were a limited number of people who had the authority to do that and all of them were supposedly loyal to him. After he was released the day after Vince immediately was on his way to Nashville. Since he couldn't fire Morte he would make the young woman pay and do so dearly.

But first he had to deal with her younger siblings. Vince couldn't do anything to Lue seeing as since Lue was only twelve and had as of yet to interfere in any way shape or form. So instead the businessman would go after the other two. It was easy to set up Viluppo who had challenged two other divas in a hell in a cell match. Next the fifty-two year old ordered a hardcore match between the Road dogg and Guerra. He was counting on the bad history between DX and the most calculated mind of the horsemen to count against Guerra. And that only left Morte herself.

Scenario after scenario flashed across the McMahon's devious mind each idea more grizzly then the last. There was no way that Morte would fight a woman in any match seeing as she had proven on more than one occasion that she could easily beat each and every one of them. Having her fight Undertaker would be poetic but wouldn't work either because they were 'friends'. The man of the dark side was more loyal to her than his employer. Finally Vince thought of a match to punish the woman-child. If Undertaker wouldn't be effective then Kane most assuredly would be, even if it was out of hatred for his brother.

* * *

In Nashville Abeebah had woken from her nape and noticed that her and Evan's things were in their' room, he had finally arrived. Glancing at the clock with a groan she heaved herself out of bed and went to grab a change of clothes. The photo shoot was in an hour. A few minutes and different outfit later Abeebah wrote a note to her absent brother and left the hotel. It was surprisingly easy to find the building that the photo shoot was being held as the locals were friendly enough to direct her to it. It was a long walk but the eldest horseman got there on time.

She was quickly led to a small studio where Linda, her entourage, and photographer were waiting. "Morte", Linda greeted warmly as Abeebah stepped through the door. The business savvy wife ran a practiced eye across the eldest horseman's curvy frame. The dark young woman was dressed in a gauzy gray top. The wide collar nearly fell off of her shoulders as the wide sleeves whispered down her arms and bunched at her wrist. The bottom of the shirt fell on her black leather clad thighs which led all the way down to her boot clad feet.

In a word Abeebah looked perfect in Linda's humble opinion. Even the wild unkempt fall of her thick hair covering what was quickly becoming an infamous scar lent to the persona that she had established so far. "Hello Linda", Morte was giving her a customary cold smile as Linda led her further into the studio, "why am I here exactly"? The McMahon matriarch isn't surprised by the question that though politely phrased she was more than aware was a demand. "Solidifying your place in this company", Linda said simply, "Vince has been scheming".

"From his hospital bed", Abeebah questioned her in a bemused manner. Linda shot her husband's employee a look. "He would plot from his grave if he could". The older woman handed her a mask. Abeebah raised an eyebrow at the bone white visage inlaid with gold. Linda smiled, "I had a feeling you wouldn't bring yours". "We'll be sale replicas of your masks limited addition prints of this session, it'll promote the company as well as make you a little more cash".

Abeebah held back a snort and put it on without complaint, pulling her hair over the straps as she sat on the prop couch in front of the camera. "So what has Vince been up to", Abeebah asked as the photographer began to take pictures. She ignored the entourage, if Linda trusted them enough to be here than whom was she question. "He's been setting you up for a fall; Viluppo is scheduled to be in a hell in cell match this coming raw, Guerra is scheduled to go up against Jessie James in a hardcore match". Abeebah knew that her siblings wouldn't turn down the matches seeing as each of the matches scheduled would appeal to them on different levels.

Lying back per the photographer's instructions Abeebah swept her hair over her shoulder, "so he knows". "And is incensed, you have to tell your horsemen not to reveal their' trump card". This time Abeebah didn't hold back the snort that welled in her throat. "I won't have to tell them, their' going to want to compete anyway". Linda nodded, "good because you're going to have to prepare for the worse, I don't know who you'll be facing and what kind of match you'll be in". A frown crept its way onto her masked lips. Worry slithered slowly up her gut; despite his arrogance Vince wasn't stupid. Staring at the camera Abeebah smiled, "I'll do what I have to".

* * *

JR had seen many things in his long tenure in the wrestling world. But looking down at the wrestling slot that was presented to him, this was perhaps the most colorful set to date. Glancing at his fellow announcer Jerry "king" Lawler he couldn't help but think that the self assured man would agree. "Well folks we have a star studded event for you tonight with not only the first ever women's hell in a cell action we also have a surprise match between Morte and a mystery opponent".

"That's right JR, Morte is gonna pay tonight for crossing the boss and there's nothing anybody can do about it". King smiled at the camera, "Not even the other horsemen can do anything because their' involved in other matches Viluppo is in the hell in a cell match and Guerra is in a hardcore match with Roaddogg". JR didn't look all that enthusiastic; though his experience with the siblings was limited he had come to like all of them even though Morte had all but scared him out of his wits. "Speaking of which, the hardcore match is up first".

No sooner had the words left the Oklahoma cowboy's mouth that Roaddogg's voice came blaring out of the PA system. "OH YOU DIDN'T KNOW, WELL YO ASS BETTER CALL SOMEBODAY". The DX member came out belting out the rest of his entrance along with the crowd, a mic in one hand and baseball bat in the other. The brown haired man was smiling as he struts to the ring. He had heard plenty about Guerra and if the horseman was anything like his sister then he was in for a good fight.

Suddenly the lights began to flash on and off. Slowly the demented lullaby of Guerra's theme song began to play. Roaddogg didn't know why but he felt a chill run up his spine as the second born horseman stepped out from backstage. "And there his is ladies and gentlemen, Guerra, the clean up hitter of the horsemen, this young man just turned twenty under two months ago", crowed JR, "and like his sister before him made an impact on this company". The light skinned wrestler was carrying a 2x4 to the ring eyeing his opponent calmly, violence leashed by a thread.

The days prier to the show had been more than a little stressful. First was picking up Abeebah from jail then finding out that he and Delia would be competing in matches designed to set up Abeebah. When she had returned from her photo shoot their' eldest sibling gave her siblings a run down of what she knew. And then they began to plan or at least plan and train as much as they could, they needed to circumvent whatever Vince had planned lest Abeebah be seriously hurt because of it.

'Got to make this quick, no feeling out the situation on this one', Brandon told himself stepping into the ring. Roaddogg didn't even wait for the bell to sound before he was swinging the bat at his head. "That was dirty", JR commented, "No that was smart", King retorted. Ducking the green eyed horseman swung around swiped the new age outlaw's legs out from under him. Not pausing to think about what he was doing Guerra swung down upon Roaddogg's head. The 2x4 missed by inches as the downed wrestler rolled out of the way.

Roaddogg cursed as he was forced to drop the bat while accidentally rolling out of the ring. Knowing better than to follow him Brandon hurled his 2x4 at the smaller wrestler's head, hitting Roaddogg squarely in the back of his head and preventing him from getting up. Quickly sliding out of the ring Brandon retrieved his 2x4 and again hit his opponent in the back of his head. The crowd groaned along with the Jesse in sympathy but King was laughing along with his partner. "Looks like Roaddogg got a taste of his own medicine".

* * *

In their' locker room the rest of the horsemen watched Brandon's match in earnest. Surprisingly Undertaker was there with them, standing behind Abeebah with a large hand on her shoulder. The eldest horseman didn't pay any attention to the comforting weight; the old man had his own match to worry about as soon as this one was over. It wasn't as dangerous as the ones she and her siblings were participating in but a match with Steve Austin would be enough to distract anyone. Unable to stop herself Abeebah placed her hand over Taker's, inhaling sharply when Roaddogg scored an effective hit. Like so many times before her siblings didn't question it.

Back in the ring Brandon was now on the defensive. Roaddogg had hit him with a fire extinguisher that had been stashed under the ring. The horseman's head was still ringing from the head shot when the outlaw set up a table up against the ring post. Dragging the bigger wrestler over to the table Roaddogg propped him up against it and then backed away. Only to charge at the dazed young man and miss as Guerra suddenly stumbled out of the way. Roaddogg crashed threw the table and went shoulder first into the ring post. He didn't even have enough breath in his lungs before Brandon picked up the fallen extinguisher and cold clocked him and dropping into a pin. Guerra's victory was elementary.

In the back the siblings gave a sigh of relief as their' brother's theme music sounded. Brandon managed to get through the match without any really serious injury though they all knew he would be smarting for awhile. Unclenching her hand Abeebah cast her hazel gaze pointedly away from her bond mate. The deadman quirked an amused half smirk before brushing gloved knuckles over her throat and leaving to go to his own match. He passed Brandon on the way there, running a critical eye over the boy as he passed. Guerra was too tired and battered to even notice him.

The green eyed made it the 'horsemen locker room' just in time to see the rattle snake's entrance on the monitor. He didn't even have to say a word before Delia and Evan were swarming him, checking him over to make sure he hadn't cracked anything. Abeebah didn't move from her spot, "this is going to get uglier then it has to be", she stated as the match began. Brandon silently agreed watching as the Phenom and bionic redneck locked up. This wasn't a title match but if Undertaker won he would be automatically placed in title contention.

The wily ill-tempered rattlesnake most assuredly didn't want that. The eldest horseman closed her eyes and observed the match through her 'other senses'. Mark was too distracted by the blue eyed Texan to shield each stinging strike the rattlesnake sent his way. Nor could he hide the fact that the match was harder on his body than he was most assuredly letting on. 'Mule stubborn son of a bitch', she thought with a certain pride and exasperation. Abeebah could also easily feel her bond mate's frustration leaking out of control as the match continued through each near fall and near disqualification as the match dragged on.

The match lasted longer than anyone thought it could be in the end Deadman's ability to absorb punishment and outwait any fiery and cleverly thought out assault won him the match. It was hard fought victory but one that sewed the seeds of trouble that would rear up to definitely come back to haunt everyone. It was simple; Undertaker wanted the belt; Austin had the belt. The rattlesnake would probably do anything to keep being champion and the Phenom would do anything to take the title from him. "Ok looks like I'm up". Abeebah didn't even open her eyes to watch her sister go. The night was far from over.

* * *

A/N: Up next Chapter 13 : I Shall Fear No Evil. The first ever women's hell in a cell match and the surprised match between Morte and Kane.


	13. I Shall Fear No Evil

The stagehands hastily called for an intermission as they set up the cell while Viluppo Ivory and Sunny waited in the gorilla area. They told King to stall. The Tennessee native was more than happy to help them out seeing as he could catch up on some of the interviews he'd wanted to do. One particular one the former wrestler was itching to do, questioning Paul Bearer on his relationship to Kane. It was easy enough to find the lard infested manager skulking around in a locker room assigned to him and Kane. However the big red machine was nowhere to be found.

This was a bonus in the ring announcer's not so humble opinion. King didn't relish the thought of getting attacked by 'little brother'. The interview started off simple enough seeing as it didn't take much to get the greedy little bastard to talk. And it was even more surprisingly easy to get the portly benefactor to talk about Kane's origins. It seemed that ol' Mrs. Calloway was drunken one day and Paul whom had been Mr. Calloway's assistant at the time had slept with her. To say the least the former wrestler was both horrified and amazed. What he didn't realize like so many watching the interview was that the fat bastard was lying through his teeth.

All this was for the sole purpose of incensing his former 'client' beyond the point of rage. Despite what many might think if they knew of the Calloway brothers' mistreatment Taker still loved his parents fiercely. The slight against his deceased mother would blind him with fury. And then it would only be a matter of time before Paul would have the Phenom either dead or back under his thumb. The thought of having two powerfully beings under his control nearly had the red headed Texan salivating.

* * *

Undertaker stood frozen near the door as he watched what was left of his mother's name is dragged through the mud. Icy crystals constricted around his heart and lungs, stinging with lashes of permafrost and stealing all reason and common sense. Wearily Brandon and Evan watched him sure that the quiet before this storm would not last long. Suddenly Abeebah was struggling to keep her breath steady as she gripped the edge of her seat. And despite her tight grip the eldest horseman was still swoon as she stumbled precariously to her feet.

Her brothers didn't notice. A thunderous growl built its way up Taker's throat, escaping his lips with an almost sub-octave rumble. He turned to stalk off and find the fat pig only for leanly muscled dark arms trying to wrap completely around his middle. Taker ignored the sharp intakes of breath Guerra and Lue let out. The man of the dark side didn't have to look over his shoulder to know who it was that dared touch him. 'Don't you dare', it was a plea as much as it was an order. Exhaustion and helpless rage that matched his own flooded the Phenom's senses.

And for a moment he let it be, let Abeebah hold onto him in her surprisingly strong arms. But the cold anger festering in his gut couldn't be forgotten. Not even for his bondmate's sake. As he went to loosen Abeebah's hold, her grip only became tighter. "You're gonna do someth'n stupid", she informed him knowingly. "And ya fix'n to stopp'n me little girl"? He felt the darkest horseman's nod, "ya damn straight I am old man", reflexively her arms tightened in emphasis. Unbidden amusement danced across their' link. It did little to set her frayed nerves at ease.

"And if I were ta tell ya that I ain't fix'n ta do someth'n stupid", he questioned in a sudden teasing mood despite his boiling temper. "I'd call ya a liar", Abeebah sighed, "and I would be right wouldn't I"? Still the amusement prevailed. It was a sharp sense of humor Abeebah would normally display as she in her chilly disposition would observe the seemingly ironic and ridiculous. But this trait seemed to have passed on to the Phenom and much like the woman at his back he indulged it. But it was a short lived piece of pleasantry as once again his short childhood came to mind.

He had lost that 'sense of content' long before this little ice princess ever came into his life. Gently as he could manage, Taker unwound Abeebah's arms from around his middle. And then walked away without saying another word, He was going to find Bearer and make the fat man wish he was never born. The horseman didn't try to stop him. At least his temper had waned if only enough for him not to be completely be blindsided by it. Firmly turning her attention back to the monitor Abeebah ignored the looks her brothers were giving her.

* * *

In the ring the cage was being lowered around the divas. Delia was smiling ear to ear, even as she ignored the broadcast that had sounded throughout the arena before the match. She had bigger things to worry about than the Calloway brothers' family drama. Ivory and Sonny glanced nervously between each other her and the descending cage. Sonny had been confident it would come down to she and Ivory in the match seeing as they had the most experience until the cell was secured to the floor. Viluppo was smiling dangerously at them, an insane glint in her velvety eyes.

"Welcome back to broadcast everyone", at the announce table JR was doing his best to continue with reporting what was going on in the ring while King completed signing his own death warrant. "Well all three competitors are now in the ring for the first ever women's hell in a cell match". As soon as the bell wrung Viluppo was on the move abruptly attacking Sonny. Ivory took advantage of the younger women fighting each other by slipping out to get a weapon from under the ring. However the dark haired diva didn't count on Viluppo taking out Sonny immediately.

But then again no one including her siblings who were watching in the back could figure out how Viluppo could pull off a spinning headlock elbow drop. While Ivory was still bent over looking for something to use the light skinned horseman spring-boarded using the top rope and dropped leg first onto the back of Ivory's neck. Sometime during her execution of the risk taking move and her near crash and burn landing King returned to the announcers table and was just as god smacked as his partner. "Did Viluppo just-". JR didn't answer but then again he didn't need to. "Oh my God", she could hear the elderly announcer scream out while the rest of the stadium chanted, "holy shit".

Wryly with a wince as she stood Viluppo admitted to herself that doing that wasn't the smartest idea she ever had. "Amazing agility by the rookie but it might have cost Viluppo as much as it did Ivory". Hobbling off of Ivory Viluppo glanced inside the ring only to see Sonny was still down. Then ducking down she retrieved a steel chair from where Ivory was looking for a weapon. Without second thought leveled the already fallen former women's champion.

The crowd unanimously groaned in sympathy for the dark haired diva. Viluppo rolled back into the ring, chair still in hand. She knew she couldn't play around especially with an already most likely bruised tailbone. And then there was Abeebah's match still looming over the horsemen's heads. Standing to her feet Viluppo hissed as she moved to stand over Sonny was just beginning to stir. King was smiling at all the carnage, "the most vicious diva to ever step in the ring is living up to her title JR she's leaving bodies left and right". And unceremoniously hefting the chair slammed it down onto the blond diva's unprotected skull. JR was yelling in disbelief once again along with everyone else. A sickening crack sounded throughout the arena.

The second youngest horsemen didn't particularly care if she hurt Sonny or not, dropped the chair and pinned her without a second thought. The blond bombshell didn't even flinch as the Points of Authority blared in the arena the crowd belting out the words as Viluppo hauled herself up on a nearby turnbuckle to celebrate her victory. In the back the three remaining horsemen sighed in relief only for the sound to transform into a gasp of horror when out of nowhere Delia was attacked from behind. Abeebah and Brandon didn't wait to see who before they were up and out of the door doggedly running to assist their' sister. Brandon could barely keep up as they sprinted to the ring.

* * *

He elder sister hardly paid attention to the cell that still surrounded the ring as she began to rip at the door. "MOVE"! Like so many times before Abeebah didn't think about doing as Brandon said, diving out the way as her brother barreled into the steel, causing the hinges to bend and break under his bulk. The darkest horseman scrambled over Brandon's fallen form and shoved her way past the referee who was trying to stop her. Scant moments later Abeebah was ripping Delia's attacker off her sister and laying into the obviously bigger and stronger woman. Nothing else registered in Abeebah's mind, not the roaring crowd not, not Brandon finally getting up to help Delia, not even the officials trying to drag her off Delia's attacker.

All the enraged diva could think about was the feeling of bone giving under the heavy blows of her fist. She didn't even know who she was beating up. It took three security personnel to get Abeebah off and five to restrain both she and the person she was attacking moments before. Suddenly Vince's music began to play cutting through the pandemonium that had consumed the arena. Only half snapping out of her rage Abeebah looked over her shoulder at the titantron where the McMahon patriarch's smirking face greeted her. The cell was lifting. A snarl worthy of the deadman himself twisted Abeebah's covered lips. "What do you want McMahon"? Her voice rang out over the din coming out with animal like intensity and causing her captors to flinch.

King no longer looked jovial in fact he looked down right frightened. "Hey J who do you think is more angry right now Morte or the Undertaker"? His fellow announcer looked at him in disbelief, "I wouldn't know King but then again you better hope Undertaker doesn't find you". "Me, what did I do", King threw up his hands, "it's his mother that slept with Paul Bearer". The Oklahoma cowboy wanted to slap the former wrestler upside his head but refrained.

"You're the one that dragged his poor mother's name through the mud and I don't believe that lying scheming bully one bit", he said resolutely. "No one believed him when he said Kane was still alive", King argued. Inside the ring Brandon rolled his eyes, 'yeah, after he lied that Kane was dead in the first place and lying about mostly everything else'. He wouldn't believe it himself until he saw a DNA test and even then might doubt it for the simple fact that Bearer was likely to bribe or get a fake doctor. McMahon loomed over them all through the titantron.

"I want many things, but right now what I really want is for you to acknowledge you have brought this situation down upon yourself and your sibling and a heartfelt apology for your transgressions". It was a not so subtle threat and everyone knew it. Abeebah's next words determined her fate. The owner of the wrestling federation bid the security guards to let her go and they did so but stood in front of her sister's attacker to deter Abeebah from attacking. The eldest horseman glanced down at the microphone that was shoved into her hands and then at her siblings.

Sometime during the scuffle Evan had joined Brandon and Delia, standing sentinel over both of them even as the EMT's checked both the fallen horsemen over. It only cooled her temper somewhat. Her eyes met his, the jaguar mask not hindering their' silent communication one bit. Steady calm stared at her through identical hazel orbs. Whatever she did the youngest horseman would trust her decision. It never ceased to amaze Abeebah, the faith Evan put in her. Casting her eyes down she turned around to face the gloating face superimposed on the titantron.

"I'm sorry", Abeebah looked up her gaze locking with McMahon's, "that I didn't break every God forsaken bone in that chicken shit body of yours". Vince's face became a mask of utter indignant rage as he stared down ominously at the eldest horsemen. "Then you give me no choice", Abeebah rolled her eyes and the crowd watching agreed with her as they began to chant 'bullshit'. It only served to further the chairman's ire, "I have no choice but to punish you".

"Your opponent tonight is KANE". The pyros on the ramp went off followed by red light descending upon the arena. The spectators went wild. "Has McMahon lost his mind", hollered JR indignant in his rage on Abeebah's behalf. King shook his head, "No JR, she just gotta learn her lesson, ya never cross the boss". "Cross the boss my ass there's no way that Morte could possibly battle Kane". Abeebah didn't move even as the ring was all but cleared of everyone and everything. Even her siblings were ushered out, much to their' immense protest but they were unable to hold out against so many officials and security.

Delia's attacker disappeared into the crowd during all the confusion and Abeebah swore she'd find the little shit sooner rather than later. She was only half aware that in his arrogance and assuredness Vince had faded from the titantron. He two would pay dearly for what he had done. Focusing back on her bond mate Abeebah stared Kane down not in the least bit afraid as she should've been. But then again she didn't have to be especially with Paul Bearer's lard filled ass waddling to the ring. Abeebah couldn't help but think that Kane was like a big red bull's-eye as he stepped over the top rope. "Move Morte, get the hell out of there". However Abeebah ignored JR's frantic imploring. She couldn't move even if she wanted to.

It felt like an ice pick had gone down her spine as the shadows of the arena seemed to close in on them. 'Deadman cometh', the eldest horseman whispered decrepitly across their' long unused link. Kane didn't answer and Abeebah didn't expect him to. The brunette had fallen under Bearer's control long ago and was in all likelihood lost to her. The darkest horseman shook her head, 'lost to me? He wasn't mine in the first place'. Suddenly Abeebah felt his chest brush her own and snapped out of the stillness that had encompassed her moments ago. His mismatched orbs were regarding her almost gently under impossibly long lashes. And Abeebah felt herself falling for Taker's 'little' brother all over again.

Abruptly she stepped away unable to deal with her confused thoughts and feelings about this man. She should be irritated by him, peeved even by his blatant disregard of his brother and herself. But despite everything she liked the big man and trusted him even as he loomed over her still well within striking distance. Kane gazed almost helplessly back, unable as she to do anything else. When McMahon had told Paul about this match over the phone Kane had stormed off. He had done much the same tonight unable to reconcile with the warring in his heart. If he hurt Abeebah, Mark would hurt too but what of Abeebah what of him? It didn't take long for Kane to determine that hurting Abeebah was something that he definitely didn't want.

However he didn't see anyway out of it. Kane didn't dare open his mind to Morte, sure that she would tell whatever he told her to Mark. Regardless of knowing the truth of their' situation, that it wasn't completely Mark's fault didn't change the fact that Kane hated and distrusted him. He still didn't know what to do, even as he stood before her now. However the decision was taken from him as soon as he heard Bearer's scream. Whipping around the big red machine was treated to the sight of his obese benefactor being attacked by his brother.

'Help Bearer, beat me bloody, decisions, decisions, decisions', Abeebah thought to him sarcastically. This time Kane did answer, 'its easier choice than you think', he thought back with a wave of tentative affection. Shocked into stillness the darkest horseman watched as went to got help his 'father'. She didn't even register Taker's suddenly monumental hostility as she watched the two brothers struggled against each other. But shockingly Kane's emotions were a steady glow instead of the inferno that Abeebah expected. It was comforting as it was discerning, because Kane's moods turned on a dime.

And it was because of this that Abeebah's miniscule hope that the younger of her two lovers was ready to drop Bearer on his fat ass was gone as soon as it took root. It got under her craw more than Abeebah cared to admit but she would not interfere. As childish as Kane was acting he needed to work out his feelings on his own. Slipping out of the ring the eldest horseman searched for the other horsemen with her eyes. When she only found her youngest sibling Abeebah went over to him, still mindful of Bearer and Kane as they retreated from a livid Taker.

"Where are the others"? Evan didn't take his eyes off the furious Phenom who had turned his attention to the younger of the two raw announcers. "Delia has a concussion and they need to check if Brandon fractured his collarbone, I wanted to wait for you". Abeebah nodded not in the least bit sorry for King as her bond mate picked him up by his throat and dragged him to the ring. "My money is on the asshole is here, cause motherfucker don't got common sense". The invitation was clear as day and who was Abeebah to refuse such a gallant offer? They left, not even looking back as Undertaker hoisted King upside down and preceded to tombstone him.


	14. Motherfuckers Are Slow

_A/N: DariaM this chappie is for you and Souless666 I hope you become inspired by this one.

* * *

_

_Despite the lies that you're making, your love is mine for the taking, my love is, just waiting, to turn your tears to roses- Whispers In The Dark

* * *

_

If someone would have told Abeebah a few short years ago that one day she would be sneaking into a business tycoon's temporary office space because said business tycoon screwed her over she would have probably laughed in their' face. If they told her that she'd be doing it with the help of only her youngest sibling and Abeebah would likely laugh harder. And if someone told her that'd she would be doing it in retaliation of an assault not just on herself but her siblings as well then she'd be liable to slit their' throat.

By no means was Abeebah prone to fits of violence. In fact the darkest Johns thought resorting to such measures on the first go was artless and truly demeaning and unsatisfying on a level that was beneath her. Yet, somehow someway one gutless maggoty infested worthless son of a bitch had driven her to this point. 'But hey no use in crying over spilt milk', the eldest horseman thought looking at her 'victims' through the crack in the bottom of the bathroom door that was conveniently situated across from the boss himself, who sat surrounded by policemen.

'Dumb ass thinks I'm stupid enough to go through the front door', she thought seeing that the 'suits' weren't even in possession of night vision goggles. Unbidden the horsemen's first lady felt her plump lips quirk. She had to admit had it been anyone else they probably would have. 'But unfortunately for them I'm not most people', she thought self decrepitly, 'I'm the frostiest femme fatale they'll ever know and the baddest bitch in the land'. Standing to her feet Abeebah looked up at Evan who was situated in the ventilation opening above her head.

Without having to say a word her sibling handed her a pair of rubber gloves he had pilfered from the trainer. She put them on and then Evan handed her a pipe he had managed to get while they had be scaling the ducts above. Since they had been planning on the fly there wasn't any real time to consider other options. Abeebah grimaced at the gangly yet effective weapon. Evan rolled his eyes at the look his sister was giving the pipe. Sometimes he just didn't understand his sister, if it gets the job done then there was no need for finesse.

Under the weight of her mask Abeebah smirked, amused by the amber eyed boy's irksome mood. Despite her own simmering temper the horsemen's first lady still found her younger siblings' per chant to become annoyed with her most amusing. Taking off her mask and handing it to her younger brother Abeebah nodded signaling she was ready. Evan nodded back and retreated further into the vent. It dark almost impossible to see but his fingers managed to grasp a surge plug that controlled the lights in the entire immediate area. Their' last venture into putting a serious hurt on Vince had taught the four horsemen a lot about electrical systems. 'It's amazing the things one can do with today's modern technology', Evan thought in a mock scholarly voice.

Then, without preamble he pulled the plug. The entire section of the stadium they were in was plunged into darkness and anarchy ruled there. Closing her eyes Morte took in the sounds of confusion and anger outside as everyone scurried around in their confusion. She could smell their budding fear and fed off it as she idly twirled the pipe between her gloved fingers in a slow progressive rotation. Suddenly her golden orbs snapped open, 'Now'.

* * *

Vince couldn't breath, moments before the millionaire was so sure that he had Morte right where he wanted her. Desperate, already injured and furious beyond belief the horseman would immediately go after him, full frontal assault. He had been banking on the fact that the eldest Johns would have narrowly dodged Kane's assault if not at all. He had been so sure that the dark beauty would be in no condition to go after him and even if she did the police that guarded him would arrest her.

What he hadn't expected was a repeat of the previous Raw. Now the lights were off and the cops that were supposed to protect him were stumbling into each other like bumbling idiots. And then it happened. Vince didn't know exactly what happened all he knew that he was now on the ground being crushed by the weight of at least two of his minders. He could vaguely hear the pain filled yells of the other officers but couldn't quite tune his mediocre senses any further than the sudden terror that damn near suffocated him if the crushing weight upon him wasn't enough.

And in his flurry of panic Vince didn't notice the sudden quiet that had descended around him until the end of a pipe dropped just centimeters from his head. A gasp issued and died from his mouth as a booted heel dug into his throat cutting off what little air flow he had. The McMahon patriarch tried squirm only to freeze when more pressure was applied to his already abused Adam's apple. "You were expecting me", Vince didn't even have enough wiggle room to shiver at the raw and grating tone he barely heard in the darkness, "I didn't want to disappoint".

Steadily the pressure on his throat grew until white spots danced behind his closed lids. But the pipe tapped up against his temple threateningly preventing Vince from passing out. "I want you to remember this moment Vince" he heard a chuckle and wondered if Abeebah could see his face even if it was pitch black, "yes Vince I'm going to let you live". "But only if you remember this moment, this contract between you and I, this isn't an act of mercy nor an act of rage, rather this is an agreement between us that is simply this". The boot was removed and Vince gasped and suddenly she was in his face her breath ghosting over his slightly parted lips, "Fuck with me and mine again and you'll find out **exactly** why I'm called death". And then she was gone.

* * *

Abeebah retreated from the petrified businessman satisfied that she had led him far enough on the pathway to terror. 'Now just let em' stew for awhile', she thought dropping the pipe on her way back to the bathroom. It was wondrous what she could do with only a pipe under the cloak of darkness surrounded by potential punching bags. Her golden eyes all but glowed as she recalled the how she didn't even have to do all the work. The idiots kept bumping into each other even knocked out sole cameraman in the room.

And his equipment lay broken on the floor under the bodies of fallen officers. She went back into the bathroom and with the help of Evan Abeebah slipped back into the ventilation shaft and closed it behind her. Evan re-plugged the wire causing the lights to come back on. But she didn't anyone would notice it more than the carnage she left behind. Together brother and sister snuck back to the horsemen's locker room, Abeebah discarding the gloves along the way.

They both easily dropped into the only bathroom and immediately separated so that they could change into their' street clothes. It only took them a few minutes for them to clean up and be on their' way. While everyone else was distracted they slipped away, hailing a cab so that they could go to the hospital where Brandon and Delia were being treated. They arrived just in time to see both brother and sister step out into the lobby looking worse for wear but otherwise unharmed. Evan angrily noted that a camera crew had somewhere along the line had followed them.

Abeebah noticed as well but ignored them in favor of looking over her younger siblings. "Still alive little brother", she greeted her light skinned brother teasingly. His green gold eyes shot flames in her direction, "still alive big sister", he was only mildly irked that she greeted him thus in front of a camera crew. Delia moved forward to join them; her movements were slow and painful. "Ya'll took your sweet time getting here". Evan scowled at his dark eyed sister, "I had to get tiger here to calm down", he lied purposefully cocking his thumb in Abeebah's direction.

The eldest horseman didn't deny it seeing as her clever youngest brother and sister were setting up their' alibi. The cameras were trained on her turned back and all of her siblings crowding around her. "So what's the verdict", Abeebah asked smoothly. Brandon grimaced, "as banged up as we're we'll be alright, just sore". Briefly brushing the second horseman's shoulder in comfort Abeebah tilted her dark head toward the hospital entrance. "Then let's call it a night". Her exhausted siblings sighed in relief and followed her out the hospital and to a cab. The four siblings arrived at the hotel without any trouble and bit each other good night before going to their own respective beds. However Abeebah's sleep was anything but restful.

_Dream

* * *

___

_Abeebah couldn't move and yet couldn't bring herself to feel anything besides contentment. 'I should be confused, angry, maybe even the slightest bit afraid', she told herself. But Abeebah couldn't fight off the blanket of peace holding her hostage. "Don't fight it". The eldest horseman didn't have to move in order to know who was speaking. Though she hadn't heard it in awhile the darkest horseman very much doubted she could ever forget a voice like his though she only ever heard it in her own mind. Dragging her eyes open was a mutinous chore but Abeebah managed it and was confronted with a sight that should have terrified. There was hundreds if not thousands of candles just centimeters from where she laid arms like bands of steel wrapped around her waist._

"_Why am I here Glen"? She didn't bother to ask where 'here' was since it was pretty obvious that this was the big red machine's mind-scape. Though the first lady of the horsemen was only slightly surprised that the big man's mind only displayed candles glowing in the darkness she still liked it. She felt clever fingers stroke through her hair, "I don't know". "Don't lie to me Glen, not now", Abeebah glared into the flames wishing that it was him she was glaring at. The hand in her hair didn't even still as it swept the heavy mass away from her throat. _

_Abeebah thought she would flinch, told herself almost desperately to flinch, to have the reaction she always had when it was touched. Abeebah ignored the little voice in the back of her head that told her that she never flinched when either of the brothers touched her vulnerable spot. On baited breath the darkest horseman waited, she didn't even twitch as she felt a pair of lips bestow a kiss where neck met shoulder. _

"_Do you hate me so much, hate this so much", Abeebah could feel both Kane's hurt and genuine curiosity. "God damn it Glen get it through that fucking thick skull of yours, I, don't, hate, you", Abeebah ground out through gritted teeth. She was answered by his confusion. Abeebah held back the urge to laugh hysterically. She was just as lost if not more so than the man holding her. Kane didn't understand her, then again he didn't understand himself and Abeebah had the same problem. The world had spat them out long ago raw and aching things just suffering to breath. _

"_You confound me", she finally admitted aloud, "and I don't like that you possess so much power over me". The hand stroking her chocolate tresses suddenly went still. And Abeebah's senses were awash with the __kaleidoscope_ _of emotions that swirled around them in a physical manifestation of what Kane was trying to understand. It steadily grew warmer against her skin until it seared a path down her spine. "The only power I have over you is the power you give me", he told her flatly. Somehow Abeebah managed to lift her head long enough to stare into mismatched eyes over her shoulder, "exactly"._

_End dream

* * *

___

Abeebah sat up, her breaths labored as if she'd just woken up from a nightmare. She immediately cast her gaze to Evan's still slumbering form. The younger boy was still dead to the world and his dark sister was grateful. Abeebah knew that her mediocre lying skills would not save her from her sometimes too observant sibling and she was in no mood for the argument that was would surely follow. Abeebah automatically checked the urge to curse Kane in her own mind.

The darkest horseman wasn't in any mood to tempt fate after the encounter she just had. She shivered; there was no point in trying to lie to herself, it wasn't just an nightmare. Her dismal lying capabilities aside Abeebah knew that Kane would no longer ignore her. For whatever reasons the chestnut haired hellion was no longer isolating himself from her. Even now the lashings of the big man's emotions loud and clear across their' link. Forcing herself out of bed Abeebah grabbed a fresh set of sweats and cleaned up so that she could head to the gym

When she got there Abeebah forwent the weight equipment and instead headed straight for the floor mats. Unlike her younger brother the eldest horseman didn't particularly care for lifting weights. And unlike her younger sister she didn't care too much for swimming, instead Abeebah favored rhythmic gymnastics. She found that it took more discipline than her younger siblings' more preferred methods of exercise. Taking off her shoes Abeebah began to move. It took all her attention to sink slowly into a full split that was almost painful because of her wide hips.

It took just as much concentration to lean forward so that her arms were stretched out in front of her. Pushing up, Abeebah slowly lifted her lower body up into the air her legs still in a split. She brought her legs back together and let herself drop causing her to roll forward and onto her feet. Only to throw her weight backwards causing Abeebah to do a series of back flips, she barely stopped at the edge of the mat. Cart wheeling once, she threw her momentum sideways so that she would avoid hitting the unforgiving concrete of the gym floor.

Abeebah whirled around, leaping into a half turn before dropping into a roll shoulder first. Stretching out one leg in front of her and the other behind Abeebah pushed up with her arms, somehow rotating upward so that the top of her head was facing the mat, her torso was held erect in the air her legs still position of a split. She held herself like this for awhile distracting herself with the difficulty of holding the position. But even the slow burn in her arms couldn't distract the horsemen's first lady from the incessant whispers in the back of her mind.

She fell, unable to keep her concentration. Abeebah just lay there unable to overcome Kane's confused thoughts and raw feelings which held her prisoner. Tears fought to escape her honeyed orbs but years of fighting back the reflexive sorrow could not be undone. Forcing herself to sit up Abeebah drew her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them fought back a growl when her eyes fell upon the very person that was currently driving her to distraction.

Kane stared back at her his mask firmly in place. There was a flicker of **something** in his mismatched gaze that Abeebah could neither make heads nor tails of. But then again she didn't understand the big man no matter how similar their' circumstances were. Personality wise she and Kane were as different as day to night. To put it simply in Abeebah's humble opinion Kane felt too much for her to really understand him. There were too many pieces to this puzzle of a man that she couldn't pick apart.

His brother didn't even remotely confuse her this much and Taker was just as complex. The chrisom demon approached slowly as if she were going to bolt if he were to make any false moves. Abeebah was highly tempted by the thought but didn't move even as he joined her on the mat. He looked at her with weary eyes and hopeful heart which Abeebah fought not to trust for one second. She had no reason to trust him; he was unpredictable, broken under the weight of the world. 'He isn't ready to trust and I'm no better', she told herself. Yet like so many times before with Kane any and all her arguments evaporated when he touched her.

He drew the heavy fall of her hair away from her throat and gripped the base of her skull gently. Kane pulled her closer into the shelter of his lap, hugging her frame into his. And it was then that Abeebah finally understood he needed her. Just like she needed him and they both needed his brother more so than any of them would freely admit. 'Truce', Kane's voice came across their' link a thread like whisper of fearful hope. Sighing Abeebah leaned into her bond mate's touch. She was too tired and too content at the moment to really care anymore.

* * *

The next following weeks found Abeebah in a constant state of headache as she dealt with both the Calloway brothers. After Paul Bearer's announcement about Taker and Kane's mother, Taker had gone off the deep end in utter fury. Most of the time he was too enraged to even speak and on more than one occasion he interrupted his brother's matches so that he could beat on Bearer. His little brother didn't care either way seeing now he got to fight his older brother more often then not so the big red machine was content.

Abeebah on the other hand was not, seeing as while she had a tentative agreement with both brothers, said brothers were not even in agreement with each other. This meant that after one of their' now legendary squabbles one or both of them but always separately came to her complaining like children. Or at least as close to children as two full grown yet shattered men could act, which was surprisingly childish. However no matter how annoying it got (or frightening to everyone else) Abeebah didn't interfere. Like she and her siblings had to work things out when their' parents bit the dust so too did Taker and Kane had to work out their' problems.

However Abeebah was thankful to God that while her siblings healed from their' respective matches Vince had the common sense to leave the horsemen alone. Seeing that the CEO wasn't going to tango with them the rest of the people in Vince's employ followed suite. Even the people who Guerra and Viluppo defeated didn't bother them. Things in the WWF were becoming as quiet as it was going to get for them as everyone's focus turned back to the chairman of the federation and the rebellious and cunning Steve Austin.

But that all changed one Monday night Raw when in an act of either sheer stupidity or pure genius announced he had irrefutable proof that Kane was his son. And waving in his hand like a proud flag was the results of a DNA test. To say the least the older Calloway brother lost his temper would be an understatement. Taker had been so mad that Abeebah couldn't think straight. Against her better judgment followed her 'friend' to the ring. The Phenom immediately went after Paul ignoring his younger sibling in favor of going after his old mentor.

That was a big mistake. Kane intercepted his irate brother saving his portly benefactor just moments before the deadman hit. 'STOP', Both Calloway brothers flinched as if struck and was immediately pushed away from each other as Abeebah squeezed between them. "Oh my God did Morte just-. "Yes Michael, Morte just got between the brothers of the night, I hope she knows what she's doing", JR said from his place at the announcers table.

Abeebah whirled to face the elder of her two lovers, "wake up Mark this is exactly what that asshole wants", she hissed pointing to Paul. Said asshole's face was currently turning red as he marched right up to Abeebah and slapped her with as much force as he could generate. He only hurt himself seeing as Abeebah's mask was made of car parts. Unthinkingly Abeebah automatically kicked the fat bastard in his nuts so hard his feet left the ground. There was a universal groan as every male in the stadium covered their' bits, imagining themselves instead of Bearer receiving that treatment.

She didn't even glance at her victim too feral to even give a damn. The brothers didn't even notice that they had moved away from their' 'wife' until they were a few paces away. "I foresee bruising in Bearer's future JR", Michael said with a wince. JR nodded not in the least bit sympathetic to the Texan's plight, "if he's lucky that all it'll be". Abeebah rounded on Kane her eyes locking with his. Her honeyed orbs dared him to try her already frayed nerves. Being subjected to his brother's temper didn't help any.

Deciding that pissing the first lady of the horsemen was not a good idea Kane bowed his head in minuscule show of surrender. "Whoa, whoa, whoa hold up Morte what do you think you're doing"? Kane Undertaker and Morte turned to see Vince at the top of the ramp. The millionaire was in a wheelchair his throat wrapped in a soft cast. Surrounded by his entourage and security the business tycoon seemed to have regained some of his confident swagger. It galled the eldest horseman like little else.

Picking up the microphone Bearer dropped Abeebah glared directly into Vince's eyes, "stopping these two", she said told him as calmly as she could manage. There was a spark of triumph in Vince's eyes that Abeebah didn't like. "Well if you have such a vested interest in the Undertaker and Kane you'll be special referee their' no holds barred match". Everything still waiting on baited breath for her to answer and as Abeebah glared icicles in his direction Vince swore later on that for a moment his blood froze. "I accept".


	15. Drinks And Things

A/N: I don't know what I was thinking writing this maybe it's the fucking heat wave that's getting to me or something. Hopefully it isn't too bad. –Rei

* * *

_There's something cold and blank behind a smile- Coma White by Marilyn Manson

* * *

_

"You can't honestly think you're going out there looking like that". Behind her mask Abeebah raised an eyebrow and looked down at what she was wearing. Instead of her much beloved steel gray gi the darkest horseman now for the black and white strips of a WWF referee. The shirt which was hastily given to her by the senior official Earl Hebner was slightly too large but Abeebah hadn't bother to tuck it in. It hung loosely against her curvy frame yet didn't swallow her whole. It wasn't fashion friendly but it was presentable enough for what Abeebah was about to do.

"You got a better idea", she drawled lazily as Delia looked at her new 'ring gear' with a measure of distain that only she was capable of. She smirked, "yeah, burn it". Abeebah snorted with a wry shake of her head. Thinking for a moment she took off the shirt revealing the dark purple camisole underneath. There was a gasp all around as the stagehands caught glimpse of Abeebah's scared shoulders. She ignored them in favor of ripping off the sleeves of the shirt and then the collar. Now satisfied Abeebah slipped the article of clothing back on.

Cocking her head the darkest horseman stared at her sister. "Better", the younger horseman agreed. The eldest Johns nodded to the audio technician signaling for her music. Delia stalked a few paces behind her even as the haunting melody flooded the PA system. "And here she comes everybody, Morte, the first lady of the horsemen and one of the bravest women I've ever known". JR was singing Abeebah's praises tonight and King was smiling like an idiot, high off the thought of Kane beating his big brother into a bloody pulp.

"Do you honestly think either Undertaker or Kane of that matter are going to listen to her Ross"? The old cowboy sighed, "I hope so King, they seemed to listen eariler if that's any indicator". Abeebah slid into the ring while her sister went around the ring to sit with the announcers. "Whoa folks, its Viluppo what's the most vicious diva ever to step in the ring doing out here when her sister is officiating", King exclaimed. Delia gave him a toothy smile as she sat next to JR. "Just watching a good match between two very gorgeous men", the caramel skinned woman said as soon as she had placed a head set on.

The former wrestler looked so incredulous he didn't even notice the pyros going off. "You think that French fried freak is attractive". Delia fought back a severe frown, "more attractive than you, that's for sure". JR laughed even as Lawler sputtered in indignity. Inside the ring Abeebah was staring down the younger of her two bond mates. 'You shouldn't have agreed to this'. The gold eyed woman didn't back down an inch even as the seven foot monster got into her personal space. 'Oh I don't disagree with you', she replied only half listening out for the older of her two lovers', 'but backing down wasn't an option, McMahon is searching for blood'.

Cocking his head slightly Kane backed away as the lights suddenly went out plunging the arena in darkness. Furious chills raised hidden goose bumps along the two bond mates' arms. 'you should've finished em' off', Taker's mind voice joined their' conversation even as he made his entrance. Abeebah sighed in half felt relief when she sensed the calm in him. There was still a chilly fury still lurking under the surface of that stoic visage but at least he calm enough to think straight. 'Still not arguing, though being put in **jail **for the rest of my natural life would defeat the very purpose wouldn't it?' She was only half teasing.

He didn't answer as he stared directly at his brother and Kane was staring back at him. Abeebah felt more then saw Kane move toward Taker as he raised his hands signaling the lights back on. She put a restraining hand on his wrist knowing that would be more than able to break her hold but no giving a damn if he tried. 'Don't', she hissed moving to stand between him and Mark who had just stepped between the ropes and stepped inside the squared circle. His dead stare didn't waver nor did the livid glare Kane shoot him in return.

Abeebah fought the urge to rub her temples. 'This is ridiculous', she decided as Taker stepped right up to his younger sibling and effectively sandwiching her between them. Outside the ring Delia did her best not to laugh at her sister's predicament. The irony of Abeebah's current position was as funny as it was scary. Kane and Undertaker dwarfed her sister between their' combined balk yet in Abeebah's eyes Delia could see nothing but annoyance. "That young lady's gonna have her hands full with this one King". "I don't know how she's still in there JR any sane woman would have gotten out of there".

Had she not known that the brothers wouldn't hurt her eldest sibling Delia might have been inclined to agree with the jerk. But she did know better so the third of the horsemen thought it well within her right to glare the self proclaimed ladies man. Placidity raising his hands in surrender the announcer cringed. "She's still in there", Delia informed them, "Because she had to deal with three younger siblings, which is far worse than this".

She looked in the ring watching as Abeebah pushed the brothers away from each other while swinging her masked face back and forth between them. Whatever the darkest horseman said caused them to back off if only slight enough to allow Abeebah to get out of their' way."Ok you two, since ya going to go at it regardless just keep it in the ring and anything and everything short of killing each other goes". Abeebah spoke aloud no longer wanting to use her 'mind voice' since she was sure that Taker wasn't going to answer.

They both looked down at her before stepping away, remembering almost vividly the kick to the groin of Paul Bearer. To say the least neither of them wanted to be on the receiving end of that particular show of temper. Besides she said that if they keep it in the ring then she'd let them be so who where they to complain. Rolling her eyes Abeebah signaled to the bell keep to do his job. And not a second after the sound went of Kane and Undertaker were at each others' throats, wailing away with heavy hands and even heavier hearts.

Abeebah nearly swayed with all of the supercharged rage coursing through the link. She barely moved out of the way when Taker all but threw Kane into the corner she claimed as her own just moments before. Kane wasn't even trying to block the shots to his masked face. He could barely feel them over the adrenaline coursing a burning path through his blood stream. However Abeebah could feel each hit as if it were her being punched. It was almost impossible to concentrate on moving out the two big men's way when Abeebah could hardly breathe, because Kane decided to choke his brother.

Dead man retaliated by lashing out with his feet. It took a few shots to get Kane off but it worked, but the younger Calloway was back on him the moment he made to kick him again. Taker was knocked painfully to his knees by a shot to his back followed by a kick to his ribs. Abeebah had to move As Taker took Kane's feet from right underneath him. The ring shook in protest of the added weight. The eldest horseman only vaguely heard the screaming of blood lusting fans. Again the older Calloway dived atop the big red machine again going for his brother's masked face. And as hard as she tried, Abeebah could not hold back the gasp that tore from her throat.

* * *

Despite what Delia told King and JR, she wasn't watching Kane and Undertaker. She was watching her sister. 'Babysitting her is more like it', Delia though wryly. Out of all of them their eldest sibling attracted the most trouble and this was no different. So while Brandon and Evan scourged up whatever information they could about whatever half baked plan McMahon had come up with this time Delia stuck with Abeebah. 'Make sure she doesn't loose it and offs somebody's sorry ass, he tells me', the light skinned woman groused, 'never mind the fact that no one would be able to stop her if she really wanted to cook a fool'.

So Delia ignored the bi-play between the two announcers when she could as she observed Abeebah's 'officiating'. But all the eldest horseman was really doing was watching as the brothers beat each other to a bloody pulp, moving out the way every few seconds to avoid being squished. Or at least that's what everyone else saw. Though Delia would be the first to say that she and her sister were anything but close but the adrenaline junky still established that 'something' was off. Anyone else but Abeebah's siblings wouldn't have noticed it but Delia figured it out. Abeebah was almost sluggish as she moved around the ring.

Delia could use many nouns to describe her sister, and even more less than flattering adjectives but one thing that Abeebah was not and that wasn't remotely sluggish. 'Shit', furiously Delia's mind went on autopilot trying to think of a way of getting her sister out of the ring before something went horribly and terribly wrong. She gripped at her ridiculously short skirt, praying that the match would end soon. No one noticed the nervous gesture save JR who had momentarily turned his attention to the young lady to get her opinion on the match so far. He had caught one glimpse of the second youngest horseman fisting at her skirt before promptly turning his attention back to the match. Viluppo was worried which didn't bode well for anyone.

It couldn't be out of worry for her sister because the first lady was doing just fine. Did she have a relationship with the brothers of the night? Morte most certainly was a friend or as close a friend to the Undertaker that anyone could ever claim. Then there was the fact that even Kane listened to Morte. For whatever reason, the young woman seemed to inspire respect out of the volatile and seemingly always hostile men. Yet that still didn't explain the third eldest horseman's reaction even though it was slight.

JR could slightly conceive the thought that Viluppo might have some feeling for the phenom but to his or anyone else's knowledge she had no contact with the big red machine. It was a mystery that the announcer would probably enjoy puzzling over later but right now he had a job to do. Undertaker had knocked his slightly bigger sibling down and was going for the cover. "Here we go first cover of this match up folks, one, two, and-, No! Kane kicks out".

* * *

Inside the ring Kane shrugged off his brother's attacks with ease of long ago learned practice. And launched an assault of his own taking Taker's feet right from under him, the big red machine then proceeded to blatantly choke him. The older Calloway rolled over turning the tables on his 'little' brother as he tried to pin his shoulders down once again. This time Kane powered out knocking Undertaker back a few paces and hard into the ropes. And it was then that the crimson demon felt it, a throbbing pain nearly stealing the breath right from his lungs. Unable to stop himself, Kane's eyes landed on Abeebah even as he 'spoke' to his brother.

'We're hurting her', Undertaker's eyes immediately swiveled from Kane to their' bride too in shock to do anything else but follow the unsaid command to look at her. Abeebah had backed herself into a corner. The demon of Death Valley didn't think any but them noticed that the eldest horseman had a death grip on the second rope. Thinking with blinding speed deadman attacked his brother once more. They had to keep up the rouse to avoid suspicion. Kane met him half way instantly reading what his brother had in mind.

* * *

In his 'office' Vince watched the match he had arranged with a smug smile pleased with the figures that one of his assistants was dictating to him. A lot of people were watching this match both live and on television. He had dared Morte's wrath for ratings but in the end it was well worth it for the money that would soon follow. And if the young woman just so happened to annoy the two freaks in the ring enough to do her bodily harms that would be a bonus. However even as the match progressed, the darkest horseman did nothing to provoke either of the Calloway brothers.

In fact she did a better job than most referees in staying well enough away from the two giants set on beating the living hell out of each other. Another genius engineered plot on his part coming into fruition. When Paul had come to him telling him about the deadman's brother Vince was skeptical, anyone ballsy enough to lie to the Undertaker of all people would have an easy time lying to him. Imagine his surprise when in fact the fat man had a meeting with him in a mental ward in Madrid, Spain.

That was where Vince first saw Kane. Behind the bars of an eight by five cell surrounded by orderlies even sitting down the monster was a sight to behold. Dark brown hair pooled around the giant's face and down his waist in a river of snared curls. And then the millionaire had caught sight of the big man's face. The resemblance was unmistakable, even with the mismatched eyes and light patches of scars. It didn't take long for Vince to break a deal with Bearer afterward and thus leading to the family feud that was currently making him millions.

However as he watched the match progress the McMahon patriarch noticed something was off. The match had somehow slowed down considerably, though the brothers were still going at it they weren't going for the more devastating hay makers. In fact if Vince didn't know better Kane and Undertaker seemed to be getting tired. Furrowing his thick brows the businessman ordered that he be wheeled back out to the arena. He was going to make sure that his costumers got their' moneys worth even if he had to go out there himself.

* * *

Inside the ring the brothers had come to a decision about their' little problem. It was a questionable solution but neither of them could come up with something better without hurting Abeebah anymore than they already had. So they decided to throw the fight. Many would question them on it; probably no one would believe that they simply got tired. Yet, in the end their' bond mate meant more to them than the trouble that would surely follow.

Abeebah was too distracted to even notice what they were doing until it was already done. Suddenly they hit at the same time, Kane with a boot to the gut and Taker with a fist to his eyes. They dropped. For a moment Abeebah didn't move, just as disbelieving as the screaming spectators. Then she began the ten count. 'What the hell are you two doing'? Kane cracked open an icy orb, 'we were hurting you'. Abeebah sucked in a hissing breath at the implications of what the two Calloways were willing to do if it meant that she would be better off for it. She didn't even notice that she reached ten until the bell had already rung.

Neither brother got up but the darkest horseman couldn't leave the ring without checking them over. So she did just that, she pretended to check over their various body parts while really taking a look to see if either of them had hurt their' heads. She still couldn't believe that the two juvenile acting brothers of the night would stop their' feuding for her benefit. Yet even as she felt for lumps on either brother's heads there were no sign of damage on either of them. And her searching touches became momentary thankful caresses.

The rusty red tresses and brunette curls slid through her fingers. It was reassuring both to herself and her bond mates. But truthfully Abeebah couldn't describe how she felt right then. Her emotions were a canopy of contradictions flowing into each other with ceaseless ease as if she were born feeling all of it. This was so frighteningly different from barely being able to feel at all. Unable to take it any longer she unthinkingly pulled away and exiting the ring retrieved her sister. Abeebah grabbed Delia hand and all but dragged her backstage, "I need a drink". Delia smirked at her and laced her arms through her sister's, "let's find the boys first".

* * *

Vince didn't even notice the two divas slipping passed him and his entourage. The only thing the millionaire eyes were trained on were the two fallen giants in the ring. The crowd and commentators were a whispering mass of confusion. How could this happen? Both Kane and Undertaker had proved on more than one occasion that they could take a bigger beating than the one that they had endured tonight. Neither of them, from what anyone could tell was even bleeding. The fact that Morte left the ring without calling the EMT's was just further proof of this.

Vince sent Patterson and Brisco to the ring to check on his 'investments' when suddenly every light in the arena went out. Excited shouts sounded even as the millionaire's breath caught in his throat. He gripped the armrest of his wheel chair; his mind was locked in the grips of a living breathing nightmare. His throat constricted in the remembered pain of having the ridges of a boot pressed down upon it. Vince could even feel the ghost touch of a pipe tapping against his temple. The salt and pepper haired McMahon flinched. He could practically feel the threat vibrating through his frame. The millionaire all but choked on his own terror only to faint when suddenly the lights turned back on, Kane and Undertaker were gone.

What no one knew was that the Calloway brothers were watching everyone's excited/panicked reaction to their' disappearance from the shadows above the Titantron. Mark held a firm grasp on his younger sibling, thinking nothing of holding Glen's hand in his own as he watched everyone tried to make sense of their' sudden disappearance. The big red machine paid more attention to their' interlaced digits feeling the contented thrumming of their' connection and confused albeit pleased feeling awash from Abeebah.

The thought of pulling away from his untrustworthy murderous older sibling didn't even occur to the big man. It just **felt** right as it always had when in his brother's chilly presence. The shadows were a comforting blanket that Glen had been without for twenty years. Trying to shake off his nostalgia the brunette forced his eyes to meet Mark's, 'what now'? Green eyes flickered in a quick succession of emotions that Glen didn't bother nor want to decipher. There were so many ways that Taker could interpret his open-ended question but Glen hoped he took it for what it was.

'That's entirely up to you', under his mask Glen couldn't help the blush that rose from his neck all the way to his pale cheeks. It was impossible not to when his brother lapsed into his habit of drawling tone of voice with just a touch of his French quarter accent. Glen mused that his brother had two reactions out of people unless of course they were either too crazy or too stupid to not be affected by his natural tone, either utter terror or arousal. Innuendo thy name is Mark Calloway. Idly Glen wondered if Mark was being deliberately vague out of spite.

Childish, he knew but neither of them had been the model of maturity for months now. Putting aside his bitter thoughts the big red machine allowed the river of curls to cover his masked face. 'I'm going home'. His brother's gripped tightened till had it been anyone else they would have complained. However Kane was beyond the point of caring. For Abeebah, he would try and tolerate his brother, but he was far from forgiving the man who had unintentionally or not, ruined his life. Taker's grip loosened slightly but didn't let go.

He forced Kane's eyes to meet his own, 'this is not over baby brother not by a long shot'. Grimly the big red machine smiled behind his mask, 'I didn't expect anything less, from you', he answered with his own brand of country drawl. Reluctantly dead man let the demon in red slip from his grasp riding his own shadows to wherever Kane had in mind. Undertaker knew better than to try and follow, his brother didn't need to be forced and he had no intention to do so. Slipping deeper into his own shadows for sanctuary electric green eyes closed in exasperation, 'soon brother soon you will truly be home', Mark only hoped that he was right.

* * *

Elsewhere three of the four Johns siblings were enjoying an outing at a local bar. Earlier the Johns women found their' brothers and had discussed at length about McMahan's latest trick. It seemed that not even his cronies knew what he was up to so there wasn't much they could tell Abeebah. Frustrated the darkest horseman voiced her need of a stiff drink. Ever prepared Evan had told his eldest sibling about a local bar that had a pretty good reputation amongst the other wrestlers. So after going back to the hotel and changing into 'suitable attire' as Delia was fond of calling it, Abeebah, Brandon, and Delia headed off to the bar. Evan opted to remain at the hotel seeing as seeing a kid there would draw all the wrong attention.

So here she was buying her and her siblings a drink, while her wily brother and sister shot a game of pool. The bartender didn't even ask if they were legal which was blessing in disguise seeing as Delia was yet to turn eighteen. 'But then again', Abeebah thought looking over at her sister's attire, 'no one would have ever guessed'. Delia was dressed in black leather pants that looked as if they were painted onto her backside leading all the way down to her spiked heeled boots and hugging her bust was a matching beaded vest that was boarder line indecent.

Her chocolate curls fell about her shoulders framing her heart shaped face. And the black and silver bangles Delia wore jingled along with her every movement. All and all Viluppo looked to be a twenty something rather than a seventeen year old. Abeebah could hear the catcalls coming Delia's way and ignored them as she handed her two siblings their' drinks. A Margarita for Delia, straight up Vodka for Brandon, and a cosmopolitan for herself, Abeebah sat at their' table as she watched them go at it. "People say that you tell the character of someone by what they drink".

Abeebah turned slightly to regard the person who addressed her and was confronted by perhaps the most oddly dressed man she had ever seen in her life. The man had dyed his long hair two colors, blond on top and jet black underneath. He wore a long black fishnet shirt under a blue and white jersey with a pair of kaki pants and a pair of blue and green k-swiss. To say the least whoever he was this guy was bazaar in Abeebah's book. He was tall like Brandon only scraping the six foot mark yet slender and agile if the way he moved was any indication.

Shaking out of her thoughts Abeebah raised the eyebrow that wasn't covered by her hair, "really and do you believe in such a thing-". "Jeff, Jeff Hardy", he said moving closer at her unsaid invitation, "and I think it's more about taste than personality". Amused despite herself Abeebah was intrigued. "Many would argue they are the same thing". He shrugged yet somehow managed to make the move look graceful which earned him brownie points with the young horseman.

If this man was aiming to impress then he was well on his way. The fact that Delia and Jeff were eyeing each other didn't surprise Abeebah in the least. The fact that this boy that could be no older than she was smart enough to try and get her approval before perusing Delia was what had the eldest horseman liking the obviously unique young man. "Tell me then, where do you think my taste run", she asked placing her cosmopolitan on the table. His rainbow head tilted, "classic and always in style".

He was rewarded by the darkest horseman's Mona Lisa smile. "What about Guerra and Viluppo", her drawling lilt was accompanied by a gesture toward her eavesdropping siblings. He smiled, "Vodka supposed to be a tough guy's drink, a bit of a risk taker, rough around the edges". Abeebah made a humming noise in the back of her throat in agreement with his assessment. "And Viluppo"? Jeff was no longer looking at Abeebah rather he was staring Delia in the eye with his Margarita raised in a jaunty salute, "don't cha know Margarita drinkers are most unpredictable lot you'll ever meet".


	16. Life Is Good But For Whom?

A/N: Well hey everyone; hope ya all enjoy this chappie.-Rei

* * *

_Going' through this life on my own made me as cold as a stone, I'm a ship going under- Weight of the world by Saliva

* * *

_

'Life is good', Abeebah mused with a sigh into the living pillow that she was currently snuggled against. Life in the World Wrestling Federation was by no means easy, but the uneasy truce between the brothers of the night had certainly taken a load off her shoulders. Generally, both siblings by some unsaid agreement avoided each other at work, and tried to get along outside of it. Her siblings were safe and happy and their' boss was miserable. And in the eldest horseman's book it didn't get much better than that.

Massive bare arms wrapped around her waist, one webbed with random patches of scars and the other unmarred. 'This can't last you know.' Abeebah glanced over her shoulder at the pale face of the younger of her two 'husbands'. Idly she wondered what it would be like to hear Glen's voice aloud. Shaking her head the first lady of the horsemen bestowed a kiss on the big man's chin. 'I know.' The big red machine had yet to cut ties with Bearer despite his brother's efforts. The fact that Kane and Undertaker were scheduled to fight for the number one contender-ship of the WWF world championship didn't help either.

There wasn't anything that any of them could do about it, especially if they didn't want McMahon getting suspicious. 'Not that he isn't suspicious already.' wryly she turned her thoughts back to her bond mates. Abeebah doubted that the brothers even 'wanted' to do anything about it. The darkest horseman abruptly stopped herself from adding some rather colorful adjectives, in conjunction to present and absent company. However if the rasping laughter in the back of her mind was anything to go by she hadn't succeeded.

'You worry for nothing.' Kane informed her, 'if you and Brandon managed it, Taker and I will be able to as well.' Sighing, the first lady didn't call attention the fact that Kane hadn't even called his brother by his name. She wasn't going to argue now, not when things were at least somewhat peaceful. The big red machine pulled her even closer to his large frame, kissing her throat contently when he sensed her thoughts quieted. It was one of the few almost nonexistent nights that they both had off, so Kane wanted to enjoy the few times he could be with Abeebah physically. "B-b-b-b-r-r-i-i-n-n-g!" Abeebah glared at the telephone on her nightstand, even as she picked up the receiver.

"Speak." The darkest horseman was in no mood to mince words. "Morte, we have a problem." Now alert, Abeebah intently listened to her youngest sibling tell her what was wrong. Kane didn't need to hear what Lue said, to know his bond mate's mood had shifted for the worse. Abeebah's usually bland features were now alight with barely repressed fury, her languid repose now gone, and in its place a tense readiness that bespoke of Abeebah's agitation. "I'll be there as soon as I can, stall." Abruptly the eldest horseman hung up the phone with a quiet growl.

* * *

Evan looked down at the phone in his hand with a sigh. Abeebah wasn't happy and no one could blame her. McMahon had stepped in it again, only this time the businessman had gotten the eldest Johns into a situation even she couldn't wriggle out of. Just minutes before, Vince had announced that Morte was to participate in a tag match against Undertaker and Kane. And if she didn't participate not only would her partner have to fight alone, she would be suspended. And right now, the horsemen couldn't afford anymore enemies, let alone someone Morte left the tender mercies of the brothers of the night.

Ignoring the camera focused on his every move Evan snarled silently before replacing the phone to its cradle. Not for the first time Evan wondered if Vince had a death wish. The tycoon had unknowingly disturbed Abeebah's quiet time with Kane. Though she'd never admit it out loud Abeebah enjoyed those quiet moments. Brandon, Delia, and Evan had no doubt that Kane liked her company as well. Thankfully though, no one besides the Johns' and the Calloways knew about it. Vince would have no trouble in using the connection against either group of siblings. Evan glanced at his sister's new tag team partner, "Morte is on her way."

Stone Cold Steve Austin sat back against an open locker, a beer in hand. The redneck looked unconcerned of the three siblings effectively surrounding him. Yet, each of them were more than aware of the discreet looks that he kept shooting around every once in a while. "How mad is she?" Delia regarded her younger brother through lowered lashes. Cocking his head Evan took a seat on the bench, carefully keeping Stone Cold within his sights. "She's… only, mildly agitated." Brandon raised an eyebrow, "Good, I don't think any of us would survive it if Morte was having one of those days."

"Now wha cha'll worry'n bout, it's my ass dat's on da line." Belligerent as always the rattlesnake cast accusing looks at all of them. "Hell, I don't know if it's Stone Cold, against, Undertaker and Kane, or, if it's, Stone Cold against, Undertaker, Kane, and Morte." Brandon ignored the unsaid threat that wrung clear in Austin's tone of voice. Abeebah could take care of herself and the redneck had every right to be angry. The blue eyed wrestler narrowed his belligerent orbs. "You ear' me boy?"

Brandon bared his teeth, "turn down the tude', I ain't got nothing against cha, but save the drama for ya momma." Unrelenting Stone Cold got right into Guerra's face, and was a little surprised that he was, in fact slightly taller than the muscle bound boy. "Now ye list- Swiftly Viluppo interceded, placing herself between her brother and Stone Cold, "no, you listen." She growled as her elder brother moved back easily. "You accuse ma blood without even know'n em' and for yo' information, you off limits, tonight you be Morte's tag partner."

In her fury, Delia's speech patterns reverted to their' South West Philly roots, having the girl sounding like the Latina she partially was. Uncaring that the person he was getting into the face of was a woman, Austin growled down at her, "meaning wot?" Baring her teeth the most vicious diva to every grace the WWF locker room glared right back. "Meaning, dat dis is strictly business, no bullshit'n or loyalties involved, otherwise mi chica be step'n off somebody's ass." Her voice held a wealth of warning. Their' eldest sibling wouldn't forgive any of them if Stone Cold was unfit to fight in their' match. Viluppo backed away doing her best to ignore the intruders in the horsemen's locker room. They could only hope that Abeebah got there soon.

* * *

Undertaker easily hid in the shadows, away from the prying eyes and invasive ears of his fellow employees. They all thought that he had gone to find his brother. They had to go up against his best friend and Stone Cold after all. He held back a snort, if only they knew. A twitching smirk forced its way on his usually dower countenance. No one even suspected that it wasn't the deadman who fallen for the first lady of the horsemen, well in 'that' kind of way. He was sure that Kane was smitten. Hell, the big man's thoughts practically bent toward the little lady whose chill matched his own.

And as hard as Kane fallen, Morte didn't love his brother back. Taker could feel it across their' link loud and clear. The darkest Johns had the emotional range of a gnat. And even though he and his brother had taught Abeebah passion, she still didn't understand it, didn't feel the need for it. It wasn't simply seeing emotions as a weakness as he himself did, Abeebah just didn't emote all that much. What took years of discipline for him, came naturally for her. It was no fault of Morte's but for Kane's sake deadman secretly hoped she'd try. 'And who knows?' He thought, 'maybe it'll stick.' Taker seriously doubted it but even he could dream once in a while.

'Taker,' the phenom sighed as Kane's voice whisper against his skin. 'Morte tell you what is going on?' The ensuing silence is a contemplative one. Then, 'I'll be there.' It didn't sound remotely as threatening as the younger Calloway meant it to. The red haired man held back his automatic need to reach out for his brother. Kane still didn't want anything to do with him. The frustration was only a mild twinge in the back of his mind, even as Kane's fiery presence faded into the background. "Sometimes I hate my life."

* * *

Much later during the show, Kane and Morte arrived separately at the arena, meeting up with their' respective partners. While the big red machine found that he could at least be civil with his brother, Abeebah could barely tolerate the bionic redneck. Abrasive, Stone Cold was on her case the moment he met her. To the blue eyed man, Abeebah was a liability. Not only was she a woman partner against the Undertaker and Kane, but she was the friend of said deadman. The same deadman that wanted to take the World Wrestling Federation title from him.

Scathingly, the darkest horseman informed him that Taker didn't need her help in gaining the title, and that she wanted to be to be his partner even less than he did. Stone Cold smiled back, baring all his teeth. Abeebah glared right back through the eyes of her mask. It was an ongoing battle to talk strategy with the man without insult after insult injecting itself in their' conversation but they managed. And when it came time to enter the squared circle Morte and Austin were at the very least on the same page. Neither of them wanted this pairing, but seeing as they didn't have a choice this point was mote.

Kane stood eye to eye with his brother in the center of the ring, raising his arms in accordance to his signature entrance. His older sibling's continual proximity now did little to bother him, no matter how many times Kane tried to work up the energy to be agitated. Idly he mused that he now understood why their' fellow bond mate had fought what came naturally for the two estranged brothers. His arms came down with a thunderous roar and heat of the pyros warming his skin.

A chorus of Chellos immediately followed, the lights transforming from the fiery red of his entrance to the arctic blue of Morte's. And as the somber melody of Apocalyptica's song, Hope, began the darkest horseman stepped onto the top of the ramp. Undertaker twitched, he could feel her agitation increase another increment at the very sight of them together, shoulder to shoulder. 'She does not want to fight us, especially with Austin as a partner.' His younger brother informed him. Sharp amusement stabbed across their' link, 'and if Brandon was her partner?' An involuntary smile tugged Glen's masked lips. It wasn't hard for either of them to imagine Abeebah challenging them with her younger brother at her side.

As the brothers continued their' imaginings, the horsemen's first lady approached the ring. She made no move to enter, merely watching them from just outside the squared circle even as the sound of shattering glass filled the arena. Morte didn't bother to look back as Stone Cold came strutting down the ramp. He easily passed his partner, entering the ring and going to the closest turnbuckle. Hauling himself up to the second rope Austin posed for the cameras. Getting down the bionic redneck went to do the same thing at the other corners.

"Welcome back everyone, this is your host Jim Ross alongside Jerry "the king" Lawler reporting from Knoxville Arena for tonight's main event." JR watched as Morte pulled herself up onto the apron, even as Kane took up the opposite corner. King smiled smugly at his co-anchor, "McMahon really outdid himself this time Ross, Stone Cold and Morte against the brothers of the night." The Oklahoma cowboy fought back a grimace. Vince had outdone himself alright, in sheer nerve and audacity.

"Vince seems bound and determined to put this young lady in some very potentially explosive situations." JR mused aloud. His coacher looked vaguely incredulous, "potentially explosive? He put her in the same ring as Undertaker, Kane, and Austin, that's all but placing the lit stick of dynamite in her hand." The WWF's senior anchor didn't disagree, but only distantly acknowledge his agreement as the two senior members of each of the tag teams started to circle each other. Absently he noted aloud that Stone Cold was avoiding locking up with the deadman.

However, JR couldn't help but glance between the two inactive members in this match. Both Kane and Morte stood in the exact same way. Their' stances were relaxed, arms idly leaned up against the ropes, masked faces tilted in the exact same angle as they watched their' partners fight. Ross couldn't help but shiver, the mirroring mannerism the two were unknowingly displaying was disturbingly similar to the off chance displays Kane and Undertaker did.

Grappling with Taker, Austin immediately kneed the larger man in the gut, and punched him in the face. The green eyed menace retaliated, returning his punch with just as much force. For a moment the rattlesnake was stunned and taking advantage of this Undertaker punched him again. The Demon of Death Valley didn't stop, until he had Stone Cold stumbling back into a corner. And even as he fell, Undertaker was on him, stomping away in a fit of rage that the deadman rarely displayed.

The referee counted to four causing the irate Phenom to abruptly turning on him. The little man scrambled back, knowing that Taker wasn't above hitting an official, forfeiting the match be damned. Austin used his momentary distraction to his advantage, using the ropes to lever himself into an upright position. And just as Undertaker turned to confront Stone Cold once more, the bald headed man kicked his opponent in the gut. He then grabbed deadman by the back of his neck and shoved him into the corner that the Phenom had him in just moments ago.

It was Austin's turn to stomp on the Undertaker, all but ignoring the ref as he tried to pull him away from his opponent. Finally the official was able to pull him away from Taker, allowing the Demon of Death Valley to turn the tables once again. The match went on, balance constantly shifting in and out the two combatants' favor. Finally Kane got tired of waiting for his brother to become tired and tagged himself in. The deadman scowled at his younger sibling but let him take his place in the ring. Austin was tired but refused to tag in Morte, knowing full well she would lose. The eldest horseman didn't mind in the least.

As the big red machine fought Austin, it proved that though Kane was just as dominate as his brother, that the rattlesnake was as much of a challenge for him as he did for Taker. But time seemed to be on the big man's side as the longer the match went on, the more tired Stone Cold became. Shamelessly Kane took advantage of this. He beat on the little bald man with the same fierce intensity that he was now famous for and Stone Cold was barely able to defend himself.

But as powerful as Kane was, Stone Cold was faster by default. So when the younger of the Calloway brothers went to grab Austin by the throat, he kicked Kane in the gut and turning around, proceeded to give the big man a Stone Cold Stunner. The audience roared as both men went down. Kane was effectively stunned while Austin was too exhausted to press his advantage. Their' respective partners watched from outside the ring, one pacing the apron like a caged animal and the other coolly watching the two with masked apathy.

However it seemed that even as tired he might be Stone Cold still had the presence of mind to get up once the referee started to count to ten. Staggering to his feet, the bionic redneck managed to stumble to Morte's corner abruptly tagging the girl in. Not knowing whether the rattlesnake did it out of spite or he was just too beat up to even know what he just did, Morte still entered the ring. However at the same time Kane unsurprisingly managed to sit up. The big man unthinkingly tagged in his brother, forcing Undertaker and Morte into the match up against each other. And though the crowd was pleased, they were not.

* * *

They squared off, neither sure of exactly how to approach the other. Taker had no inclination of hurting his 'friend' and Morte had no inclination of getting hurt. She had no illusions of who would win in a straight up fight. "Well here it is folks, are these former partners, friends even, going to fight each other?" King was all but salivating at the sight of Undertaker's frame dwarfing over the younger and most assuredly female wrestler. Cheering with the rest of the crowd when they finally locked up, the former king of the ring watched in eagerness as Morte was easily pushed back.

"And more importantly King, what effect will this match have on their' relationship after the fact." JR asked his partner wisely. They all watched under baited breath as the darkest horseman easily fell under her friend's bulk, but used his own momentum to send the deadman flying. Immediately she rolled to her feet, attacking Undertaker even as he landed with a painful grunt. She kicked at his kidneys, going for the most vulnerable spot that she could reach, and doing so repeatedly. Abeebah had told him once she would show no mercy and she wasn't about to go back on her word now. Not even as the stinging shots penetrated the veil, they both by mutual agreement deliberately placed between their' link.

Suddenly Taker grabbed her foot, yanking her down by her ankle. Using the same ankle as leverage he drove his other elbow into her knee, causing Morte to hiss in pain. It was all she could do to fight the instinct to pull at Undertaker's hair. Bringing her other leg around the red head's throat, Morte brought her leg down hard as she could across his neck as many times as she could manage. Abruptly Taker rolled over, reversing the hold into the ankle lock. Again the darkest horseman countered, doing an inverted enzuigiri out of desperation.

It only staggered him slightly. Yet it was enough time for Morte to make use of one of her more extreme maneuvers. Quickly taking a half step back, the horseman's first lady took a running leap, bringing her knee up so that it would be level with Taker's chin, and her elbow up so that it would thrust down directly on the crown of his head. A jolt of pure agony jolted shot down the Phenom's spine as the unorthodox move connected, and without preamble Taker dropped. And Abeebah nearly fell with him as the pain all but overwhelmed the veil blocking their' link.

She could even feel Kane pause as she went for the pin. "What the hell was that?!" JR was hollering at the innovative if slightly insane move. King's mouth hung agape with shock as the WWF fans cheered with an unrelenting bloodlust. "I'm thinking this is exactly why both the Undertaker and Kane listen to her." He said finally breaking out of his silence. Kane seemed to snap out of his stupor and all but scrambled into the ring.

Morte didn't pay attention as her partner went to intercept the chrisom demon, didn't blink when the referee began to count, and nearly squealed girlishly when she was practically thrown off Undertaker. Bouncing off the ropes, Morte was back on the deadman even as he was getting back to his feet. JR winced in sympathy as she put Taker in a sleeper hold only to be thrown off. Taker went after her fist raised and his temper well passed its boiling point.

* * *

Meanwhile Stone Cold and Kane were exchanging blows nearby. The rattlesnake even managed to clothesline the big red machine over the top rope. Knowing better than to give the big man time to recover, the bionic redneck followed him out, striking with all the passion and temper that earned him his serpent nickname. However once again Kane proved to all that were watching that he could take more than the beating Austin was dishing out. Quickly overtaking the smaller man, Kane whipped Austin into the ring post. The bald headed wrestler was knocked for a loop.

Getting a 'weapon' crossed the big man's mind but he thought better of it, as he returned to his designated corner. And while Stone Cold done for the count; Morte was getting the stuffing beat out of her. All the eldest horseman could do was cover up as best as she could, and desperately try to think through the pain that was being inflicted on her. Finally the referee was able to get Taker to back off long enough for Morte to gain her feet. Shoving the official out of the way, Deadman swung his fist the full brunt of his weight backing the punch aimed at Morte's masked face. However the darkest horseman used his momentum against him.

Ducking under the fist that was on a collision course with her head, the masked woman raised her knee high into Undertaker's gut, driving the air from his lungs. Her forward momentum stopped, Morte once again used her elbow, only this time bringing it down with a crushing force to the back of his neck. Again he went down, this time face first into the mat. Landing precariously on her feet, Morte followed her initial hit with a driving knee to the back of Taker's head. The spectators groaned in sympathy, and all three bondmates nearly whimpered in unison.

There was no blocking out that particular move. Dropping into another pin, Morte breathed a sigh of relief when the referee managed to get the three count this time. She was unaware of Austin once again running interference against Kane. All she could concentrate on as she crawled to her feet was the fact that it was over. Even JR's "OH Gods!" echoing over the canopy of cheers and her entrance music seemed distant compared to her relief. Hauling herself up with the help of the ropes, Abeebah looked up and was confronted by golden skin and a pair of sky blue eyes.

Her partner extended his hand in an offer to help her upright. For a long moment the young woman just looked at him. She didn't trust him, nor this 'truce' but she had no intention of insulting the champion especially when she had as many enemies as she had. So Abeebah took his hand and wasn't in the least bit shocked when she felt the boot connect with her stomach, setting her up perfectly for the stunner. Abeebah closed her eyes expecting to be stunned. And yet when nothing happened she opened her eyes and he eyes were level with a black clad chest.

Almost hesitantly tilting her head back, the eldest horseman looked Undertaker in the eye. Rolling emotions flickered through his acid green eyes. Then again she didn't need to look into his eyes to know what he was feeling as he gazed down at her. But Abeebah dare not look away. Fury, pain, pride, and the briefest flickers of affection ghosted across her skin. The crowd waiting on baited breath to see what deadman was going to do. None of the surrounding spectators expected him to simply leave. Watching him go, an amused smile flickered across Abeebah's lips.


	17. Slipping Into The Night

**A/N: Well everybody this is going to be a short chappie but hey don't worry I'll update soon. Anyway remember to cast your votes on my profile.**

As soon as Abeebah got backstage, her siblings and the trainers were descending upon her, each checking the rookie professional wrestler for injuries. The cameramen swarmed around them, hoping to capture the aftershock of Morte's surprise victory. The eldest horseman was hunched over with her hands on her thighs. Under her mask, the dark beauty was gasping for air. Adrenaline be damned but Abeebah could honestly admit to herself that she was more sore than she could ever remember been in her entire life.

"How you feel'n Morte?" Abeebah glanced up at her light skinned brother, taking in the worried glaze in his amber flecked eyes. Beside him Evan stood biting his lip and his hands flexing into fist. Delia was a little further behind them, her casual boyfriend, Jeff Hardy, at her side. Taking as deep a breath as her mask would allow and straightened. "I need a fucking vacation after that shit." She informed him honestly. None of her siblings laughed, knowing that she was (pardon the pun) dead serious. The trainers agreed seeing as she hissed when one of them prodded her abused ribs after she removed her now sweaty gi.

The officials continued to prod at the eldest horseman. Taking in each pained reaction until Abeebah finally had enough. She got them to back off with one icy glare, but they only backed off slightly. They wanted to examine her further but obstinately she refused. The trainers had already said that they would see to it that she would get time off so there wasn't any other reason for her to get a more through examination. Abeebah was just tired, sore, and beat up. She could tell that she didn't have any serious injuries.

"I'm hopp'n on the first plane to our place in Harrisburg," she turned to the younger of two brothers, "call me when McMahon tells you how much time I got off." And without another word she left, heading for the horseman's locker room to change into her street clothes. None of her siblings moved to stop her. Jeff looked back and forth between Morte's retreating figure and the remaining three horsemen. "Shouldn't one of you guy's go with her?" He asked. Delia shook her head, "Morte can take care of herself, plus she can't really relax with us hovering," she told him.

* * *

In his own dark corner backstage, Taker brooded, his heart nearly exploding in a symphony of emotions. Fury that he had been beaten by a woman, an amazing woman but a woman nonetheless, pounded at the feeling of pride his 'little sister' managed to do it. Those feelings mixed precariously with the electrical current of pain singing his raw nerve endings. It felt as if someone had unsuccessfully tried to twist his head from his shoulders. Only years of distancing himself from pain of any kind prevented the deadman from collapsing.

It was only a small consolation that his bondmates were probably in as much if not more pain as he. 'That isn't nice ya know.' Abeebah's mind voice was flat even as her own aches, pains, and confusion joined his own. The veil of shadows and ice fell before the strength of their' connection, drawing Glen's emotions and thoughts into the mix. Unable to control the storm, the trinity surrendered to it momentarily, before each of them determinedly fought to regain control.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity Glen, Abeebah, and Mark did manage to regain control. And to make sure it didn't happen again they each retreated as far as they dare from what they had dubbed their' 'shared mindscape'. 'Let's not try that again, em?" The younger Calloway's mind voice seemed to echo from a great distance, his gallows humor causing his brother and the eldest Johns to give minuscule grins. They all knew that it would happen again. These overloads as Mark called them, were a clear show of just how fragile their' emotions were.

The demon of Death Valley was more than aware that he and his little brother were especially susceptible. 'Stop it old man.' Abeebah's voice was a mere threaded whisper across his skin now, almost completely shut off from both he and Kane. 'We'll survive this.' Her words were absolute in her conviction. The steel in Abeebah's nature shone through at that moment and without conscious thought, Mark found himself agreeing with her. Glen did the same, seemingly chastened for his own unconscious doubts.

Idly the deadman's thoughts turned back to the amazing feet of athleticism that Morte achieved with her high knee reverse elbow combination. It was an astonishing move, executed with such smooth precision that had he not known better, Taker would have sworn the girl was born doing it. 'Where the hell did you learn that from little girl?' He rumbled, supremely curious about the technique which had all but taken him out. He could faintly sense Abeebah's smile, 'Thai boxing is a brutal sport,' she said simply. Glen snorted in the confines of his own mindscape.

'And you used it against Taker knowing we would all feel it, why exactly?' The chrisom demon asked. The eldest Johns minor irritation tingled against their' senses. 'You'd rather I let my ass get kicked?' His and his brother's matching agitation at her doubt in them was tangible. They had both made leaps and bounds in effort for the sole purpose of not hurting the youngest member of their' trinity. Abeebah knew this, knew that she shouldn't push them anymore than they were willing to consign, but damn it, even her patience had its limits.

The only thing that the darkest horseman wanted was security, the certainty that these men who had forced their way into her life wouldn't tear them all apart. However she knew that it was impossible. Whether it was from Undertaker's drive to be the best, or Kane's need to hate his brother, neither brother were going to make peace with each other. Abeebah thought that she had made her own peace with this fact months ago. 'Apparently not,' Kane retorted. The hot tempered man retreated further into his own mindscape. Too drained both emotionally and physically to deal with them anymore, Abeebah did the same, leaving Mark alone with his thoughts. Deadman abruptly shook off the cobwebs and headed to the showers.

* * *

Vince smiled as one of the chief trainers delivered the news that the leader of the horsemen would be out for a few weeks. With Morte no longer there, there was no longer anyone to interfere with his plans for the brothers of the night. A few weeks were a short timeframe to work with, but the millionaire was able to work more extreme miracles on a tighter schedule. He thanked the trainer, and immediately told one of his many assistants to get Paul Bearer.

It didn't take the fat tub of lard long to show up. Surprisingly, his son wasn't with him. "Ye wont someth'n Mr. McMahon?" The sports entertainment tycoon smiled with all the suave skill of a shark, and tried his best not to be disgusted with the man he had come to deal with. Paul Bearer was one of the worse bottom feeders the McMahon patriarch had come to associate with. And being in the business for as long as he had, that was saying something. "I'm just wondering how Kane is doing, he's up for Monday night?"

For a moment the big red machine's porky benefactor looked surprised. Vince smiled wider, moving to place a friendly arm around the shorter man's shoulders. It was a calculated move to keep the greedy bastard off balance. And while he led Bearer further into his 'office' the former mortician's mind was working a mile a minute. "Monday," He said questioningly as Vince guided him to sit on the plush leather couch. The manipulator knew perfectly well that there wasn't anything special going on the upcoming Monday, or at least nothing special that involved his ward.

"Yes," McMahon took his time in taking his own seat on the opposite couch, across from the obese man. "Monday night, Kane versus The Undertaker for the number one contendership against Stone Cold Steve Austin," said McMahon with his grin becoming wider than almost humanly possible. Bearer was silent, his brain working even faster than it ever had before. Why was the businessman rushing to have the match? Something important had changed, and Paul scrambled to grasp what it was, while responding coherently to his employer's question.

"Course Mr. McMahon, Kane is eager to take what 'is brother covets." His voice was higher pitched than normal, grating harshly against the exceedingly acoustic walls. "Yes, well with Ms. Morte no longer here to keep the peace between the brothers there won't be anything to stop this match from happening." The business tycoon said with a certain amount of satisfaction. Suddenly the red haired Texan's mind ground to a halt. He had heard of the darkest horseman, and only had the displeasure of meeting her on two occasions.

Neither incident were forgotten, or forgiven. First the disrespect that she showed for him when she interrupted his spiel against Taker, then when she got between the brothers and then kneed him. But when he thought about it, Bearer could recall how Kane backed down to the woman on both occasions, and there were the rumors that Morte and Taker were fucking despite the very public and empathic smackdown of them being in a relationship.

'A smackdown that included that jezebel leav'n McMahon a bloody mess in his own office,' he thought with a sudden clarity. Kane had been in a tag match against the harlot that night, and though Undertaker was his partner, they were both competing against her. 'Apparently she was injured enough to take a vacation,' his grin growing along with his boss's. It grew even larger when a plan began to formulate in his mind. "But what about the other horsemen," he asked deliberately, "don't cha think that someone still might interfere with this match?" Intelligently Paul let Vince draw his own conclusions so long as he followed Paul's line of thinking.

Immediately the businessman's expression soured as his thoughts turned to the most likely suspects of Bearer's not so innocent question. Austin would in all likelihood do as the round manipulator was implying, and cheat to retain his title. This was unacceptable in the tycoon's mind, seeing as he was tired of seeing the redneck with the belt. And he was damn sick and tired of having his authority undermined weekend and week out. It was well past time to bring the championship to heel and under his power.

It didn't matter who did it as long as Austin could no longer call himself champion and the one who did become champion was easily molded. Currently the one that fit the bill of the two candidates vying for the championship was Kane. Thinking this over, Vince gave Bearer another conspiring grin, "well I think it only think it would be fair that there be an equalizer, of sorts." Kane's 'father' leaned back, glad that McMahon was seeing things his way. Vince did the same. "Tell me Paul, have you've been speaking to Mankind lately?"

* * *

A few days later found Abeebah in the rather expensive property that she and her siblings had purchased in one of the little towns outside of Harrisburg Pennsylvania scant months before. It might have cost an arm and a leg, but the amount of land that went along with the house was well worth it. No neighbors for miles, which equated to much needed privacy in Abeebah's humble opinion. 'Or at least as much privacy as one can get when one is being followed around by one form of press or another.' She thought with just a touch of annoyance.

Time on the road and in the public eye during her matches hadn't prepared the eldest horseman for what it would be like for people to know who she was outside the ring. It seemed that the video of she and Mark in the graveyard had spread during her time on the road. And no one forgot the beauty under the mask. So when the local reporters got wind of her coming, they descended upon the property with a surprising zeal, and determination. 'Mores the pity,' she thought putting the finishing coat of dragon's gold paint on her bedroom wall.

Unlike her room in Philadelphia, the walls of her room here were not dank or cold, nor infested with spiders, or too loud from the basements water heater. The days of calling the sorry excuse of a laundry area her bedroom were gone, and in its place was a somewhat lavish existence. It was what possessed Abeebah to start decorating, after getting a full day of sleep once she first arrived. Yes, having paparazzi bug her every time she left the house was a hassle. And people constantly asked for her autograph and picture as she went from shop to shop was almost annoying enough to commit homicide, but that was the price of being famous.

Setting aside the paintbrush Abeebah moved to install her roman shades. The texture of the blood red fabric was supple against her fingertips as she hung them from the two windows. They contrasted nicely against the deep near black bronze of the curtain rods and gauzy lilac of the curtains. Next she set up her bed frame. It only took Abeebah minutes to assemble the whole thing, but once she was done the darkest horseman couldn't help but feel the slightest bit of satisfaction as she looked at the finished product.

Espresso lacquered wood gleamed under the light of the paper lantern hanging from her ceiling. The head board composed of three slates screwed horizontally to two vertical supports behind them, which anchored to the base of the frame. It elevated the bed only slightly off the floor, but enough that Abeebah was comfortable with. The horsemen's first lady now set to furnishing her bed with satin sheets, and purple, gold, and red pillows. She had no idea why she picked these colors for her room but it felt right.

Finished with that particular piece of furniture, Abeebah went to arrange her vintage Victorian dresser and vanity opposite each other almost touching the still drying walls. She draped a long scarf of gauzy fabric over the rounded mirror of her vanity. Against the dark grain of her classic piece, the purple fabric appeared even softer. She decorated the vanity even further by adding a dark plate filled with three blocks of red candles. After she placed a bench in front of the vanity, Abeebah then moved the nightstands she had bought to flank the newly assembled bed.

Suddenly the only phone currently in the house rung shrilly, disturbing the quiet afternoon air. Gritting her teeth in annoyance, the dark beauty moved to retrieve it. "What?" Not the most polite greeting she could have given, but after having people constantly interrupt her vacation Abeebah felt entitled to her irksome mood. "Hey chill that tude' Beebs, its me." Still the eldest Johns didn't smile as she heard Brandon's voice come through the receiver. The tension in her hand only eased minutely. "Hey Brandon, what is it?"

"Jeez Abeebah, what's got in your craw?" His sister could imagine the pouting expression that he was most likely sporting. No one was probably around to see it, thus preserving his manliness, but his only elder sibling still snorted at the mental picture. "Never you mind little brother, let's just say my patience is being worn thin by the locals." When her brother didn't quip back with in his usual dry manner, the leader of the horseman became suspicious, "what is it Brandon?" The light skinned Johns cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"McMahon moved up the date for the number one contendership." He informed her abruptly. The eldest horseman was very still, the last few weeks and all their' happenings going through her mind. "So that was the bastard's plan." Abeebah didn't mean for her voice to take on the edged stalactite fury to take hold, but could no more stop it anymore than she could stop breathing. "Yeah well, it just got a little bit more complicated than that Beebs; Bearer's been courting Foley's favor." 'Son of a bitch,' Abeebah's breath escaped her lungs with a hiss. "Guerra, we have some counteractive measures to plan."

* * *


	18. My Brother's Keeper

A/N: Poor Taker's pride has been stomped on the last chapter. He and every poor Undertaker fan reading this fic are really going to hate me this chapter. Please I'm begging all my readers don't throw anything at me. –Rei

* * *

The pack of spectators roared in jubilant exhilaration as they beheld the spectacle that was the WWF. The pyrotechnics, seemingly epic battles, and drama drawing them in like flies to honey. It was the calling of their' era. Yet one amongst them remained unimpressed with the glamour. Abeebah sat placidly in her seat near ring side, the hood of her sweat jacket covering her masked face. The eldest horseman didn't know how Evan had managed to get her a seat so close to the action, but wasn't about to question him on it.

None of her siblings had dined to join her, seeing as that anyone of their' presences would have drawn undo attention. Only two people knew that the eldest of the Johns family was here. The Hardy brothers wouldn't say anything. And the four horsemen's plan demanded that Abeebah remain hidden amongst the crowd, things could go very wrong very quickly otherwise. Neither of the Calloway brothers were told of this plan, nor the deals being formed behind their' back. And if Abeebah could help it, they wouldn't be until after the match.

"They need to have at least one fight without interference." She had told her siblings just scant days earlier. 'And hopefully, this time, the two will be able to keep up the barrier.' She thought with a mental wince, remembering the instances of pain she had already experienced 'through' them. A repeat was inevitable, but knowing it was coming didn't make it any less unpleasant. Already, Vince had taken a seat with the announcers. It was all Abeebah could do not to just withdraw her hidden knife and slit his throat with it. Suddenly the sound of shattering glass filled the arena.

She wasn't surprised at all when her fellow audience members came out of their' seats. The rattlesnake in all his redneck glory came strutting down the ramp, a mile wide smirk near splitting his face in two. Doing his usual entrance, Stone Cold then circled toward the announce table. Walking up straight to Vince, he flashed his boss the bird and Mr. McMahon was incensed. He spat out insults, even as the WWF champion moved to take a seat next to King. Stone Cold just talked back, giving as good as he got.

The aggravated duo continued even as, the lights suddenly went out and Kane's theme song began to play. JR ignored them as he spoke, "Here comes the big red machine, this man is a truly awesome monster, and the younger brother of the Undertaker." "And he would make a great World Wrestling Federation Champion." McMahon said quickly, leaving 'the better than you Austin' unsaid. "Yes he would, Kane is one tough son of a gun, I'll give em' that", Stone Cold said in a rare moment of praise. The demon in red stalked to the ring, Bearer accompanying him with a smug smile.

Under the scarlet light the little man seemed to be a cackling imp, a gate keeper for the greater beast walking beside him. Not for the first time Abeebah felt a disgusted chill run up her spine. It was all she could do not to lose what little control she had gained over the emotions Mark had all but force fed her, and tear the pompous fat bastard limb from limb. Taking a cleansing breath, lest Kane notice her, the eldest horseman continued to watch Kane's entrance. She couldn't help but admire the play of muscle under stretchy fabric.

For his part, Kane was too focused to really pay attention to the throbbing that seemed to emanate from within. He could hardly believe that McMahon wanted Austin to lose his title so badly that he would have both he and Taker fight. But then again, the businessman proved on more than one occasion that his wounded pride could sometimes outweigh his common sense. In any case the big red machine didn't have any objections to the arrangement. Despite his trepidation about the potential pain it might cause Abeebah, Kane was still his brother's enemy.

Stepping over the top rope, Kane moved to stand at the center of the ring. Then raising his hands to set off the pyros in the turnbuckles, the younger brother called on the ever burning rage simmering in his charred heart. And as his arms forcefully dropped, it was like Kane's humanity came crashing down with it. All that was left was the monster, the machine. He didn't even sense the heat of the pyros warming his skin, nor the sudden darkness following in its wake. There was nothing, but the all consuming need to exercise the demons that had been trapped inside of him all too long.

And then tolling bells rung out, followed by the wail of an electric guitar, cheers erupted from nearly every soul present. Columns of fire shot out of the ramp, causing fog to spread across the ground, and the arena lights to turn purple. Jolting chills ran up Abeebah's spine, an abrupt, stinging balm to the searing rage piercing a scorching a path through her nerve endings. Abeebah was unable to stop herself from cursing the air black. This was going to get uglier than it had to be. She didn't even have to see the hard glare Taker was shooting toward both Kane and Bearer to know that.

"And here comes the Phenom, the Undertaker, perhaps the most respected wrestler in our business today." JR announced, trying to drown out Vince's comments before they began. Austin grinned widely at the older man's overt rudeness. "Another tough son of gun, and it will be my honor ta retain the title against dat man right there." The redneck boasted. Then he glanced at the cheering crowd, and inadvertently met Abeebah's orangey hued gaze. Stone Cold couldn't see her face but he didn't need to.

The eldest horseman was the only person the rattlesnake had ever met with that particular shade of amber eye color. "What da hell is Morte do'n ear?" Automatically the CEO of the WWF's eyes followed his employee's line of vision. Vince's skin turned nearly sheet white. The eldest horseman sat amongst the crowd, a calm yet malevolent presence nearly hidden within in the throng that surrounded her. Her veiled gaze focused on him, and Vince couldn't help but flinch at the sight of her fury. Abeebah's fist clenched in her lap, she had been found out, and she knew it. She just prayed to any deity that was listening, that her siblings hadn't screwed up as well.

Mankind gasped desperately for air, as he lay on the unforgiving concrete. When Lue, the youngest, and smallest of the horsemen had approached him, he had been wary. But never in a million years did momma Foley's little boy ever imagined that a boy, let alone one that wasn't even half his size would be able to lay him flat. But Lue had managed it, and without help of any kind. And it only made things worse when the light skinned manager did get him down; he kept the usually pain resistant wrestler down.

Then in the heat of his disorientation, Mankind Maguire found himself locked inside a maintenance shed, deep within the bowls of the arena. How the pixie thin child was able to drag his carcass all the way there baffled him, even in his sorry state. The youngest horseman left him there, secure in the fact that he wouldn't be getting out any time soon. He nodded toward Viluppo as he passed her in the hall, on his way to McMahon's temporary office.

She nodded back, and then headed toward her own appointed task. The third of the horsemen passed her eldest brother on the way to the parking lot, and he received a nod from her, signaling their' younger sibling's success. Brandon gave her a grim little smile in return. Dressed in his street clothes, fresh from his own match earlier that evening, he went to go join their' elder sister. If everything went according to plan, than they would not only get back at McMahon, Taker and Kane could finally have the fight that they've been spoiling for.

Deadman easily mounted the ringside steps, gracefully holding out the edges of his coat so that he wouldn't step on them on the way up. The roaring crowd was just an echo in the back of his head compared to the tattooing beat thundering through his chest. He didn't even bother trying to catalogue the feelings reeling throughout his being. The only thing he could hope for was that neither he nor Kane went too far with this. It was more than their' own well beings on the line for the gold this match.

Raising his arms to return the lights back to normal, Undertaker stepped inside the ring. Then, taking off his long coat, the deadman stalked to the center of the ring, meeting his brother glare for glare, as they stood in each others personal space. The referee didn't even try to break them up as he signaled for the bell to be wrung. The sound didn't register in the ears of the two giants currently facing off in the ring as they stared at each other. They were still too consumed in their' wordless argument, old hostilities coming to the forefront, begging to be let loose.

And let loose they did, as the tide of checked tempers finally broke through the restraints the brothers had willfully set for the safety of the one they both respect. Fist went flying, with little regard to finesse, strategy, or protecting, only with the intent of harm. Like before, Abeebah could each hit as if she were the one getting punched. Not for the first time, she cursed Kane's inability to distance himself emotionally. Perhaps if the younger Calloway had more control, then his brother wouldn't be sucked in along with him, and by default, Abeebah as well.

Under her mask, the eldest horseman hissed in pain, as another shot connected with Kane's ribs. And nearly keeled over when the red demon retaliated with a punch to his brother's gut, and then a blatant choke. Taker was able to throw Kane off before the official was able to count to five, but the ever persistent younger monster was on the attack again before the deadman could press his advantage. The slightly taller Calloway grabbed the Phenom and picked him up, intending to power slam him. But Taker was able to squirm out of his hold.

Whipping Kane across the ring, Taker followed his little brother in, flattening him further into the corner. Backing up, the red haired demon of Death Valley was knocked down as Kane used the momentum the ropes provided to clothesline his older sibling to the canvas. He followed it by dropping his elbow into the big man's sternum, and went to pin him. The count didn't even make it to one, as Taker shrugged his brother off, and sat up. The blood thirsty cheers that echoed through the arena, was still a tiny buzz in the back of Taker's brain.

Getting to his feet, Undertaker launched himself at his 'little brother', meeting the big red machine half way, grappling each other. Their' bond mate sighed in momentary relief, knowing that it wouldn't last but thankful all the same. "How long have they been at it?" Abeebah barely held back a flinch as her brother's voice sounded all too close to her. She glanced up, where Brandon loomed next to her. The younger horseman was wearing a black hoody like Abeebah's own and a plain pair of jeans. He, like everyone else was watching the two Calloways go at it.

"Only a couple of minutes but give it time they'll tear each other a new one soon." She said her voice coming out more harshly due to the power slam Undertaker executed on Kane. The light skinned Johns didn't bother glancing at her currently porcelain white visage, knowing that the mask would guard her expression too well to accurately interoperate Abeebah's state of mind. "Did Lue get it done?" It was an obvious ploy to turn attention away from how she was feeling, but her brother felt obliged to let the subject drop.

"Yeah, and Viluppo is setting up the bastard as we speak." "Good." There conversation ceased between them as Undertaker went for his signature pin, only for Kane to shrug him off. Frustrated the slightly older wrestler got up and kicked his brother's shoulder. The big red machine still got up, even as his brother grabbed a hold of his arm. At the commentators both, both Austin and McMahon were now studiously watching the match. It was obvious to the both of them that the eldest horseman wasn't going to interfere, especially when she showed no signs of movement after the third near fall.

Still Vince couldn't help but to glance her way every once in a while. The businessman was sure that the darkest horseman was up to something, but until she made a move there wasn't really anything he could do. JR watched Morte as well, only he did so out of curiosity. As far as the announcer knew, the first lady of the apocalyptic riders was watching her seemingly best friend get pounded by his own brother. It put an interesting spin on an already fascinating situation, especially with Morte being an older sibling herself.

And when Guerra joined his sister and watching the two brothers of the night go at it, the Oklahoma cowboy couldn't help but chuckle at the irony. This got his coacher's attention. "What are you laughing at JR?" King asked, about to make an insinuation that it was their' employer that he was about to insult. But JR knew him all too well and cut him off at the pass. "Look over there King, looks like Guerra has joined his liege lady in watching this match." The former wrestler whipped his head around so fast he nearly broke his own neck. And sure enough, the light skinned "Hammer of the Horsemen" was looming at his sister's side, his hands pushed deep into his jean pockets, and eyes trained on the ring.

"What the hell is he doing here? I can understand Morte, this is an important match and ol' tombstone head is her 'friend' but Guerra has no business out here." Vince wondered the very same thing. He wouldn't put it past the dark skinned beauty to get all of her siblings involved in whatever she was planning. The McMahon patriarch had no doubt the three younger siblings would follow whatever their' sister wanted to the letter. He had already seen the results of their' fierce loyalty to each other, been on the receiving end as well and shuttered at the very thought of it happening again. 'What the hell are you planning, little girl.' As if hearing his thought Morte turned her gem like gaze toward him, and stared.

The sports tycoon could only hold Morte's intent look for a moment, and then he abruptly turned his attention back to the two titans in the ring. Austin noticed this and smirked, "Fraid o' a lil girl Vince?" The rattlesnake's nemesis glared lividly at him. "No more afraid then you should be." The businessman retorted hotly. This launched the two into a whole new belligerent confrontation that had even the ever patient JR ready to tell the two the take it to the ring. Meanwhile Bearer watched outside the ring, anxiously glancing as his cheap wristwatch every so often, wondering where the hell was his charge's 'back up' was.

Mankind should have been there by now, and with each near fall Bearer lost a bit of his confidence. This wasn't supposed to be happening, Mr. McMahon had all but guaranteed his puppet's victory, and in turns his own, so why wasn't anything going as planned. As if the powers that be saw fit to answer the obese man, Mankind came stumbling like a drunkard from backstage. "What da ell' Mankind do'n out ere'?" The crowd muttered in agitated confusion along with their' champion. And from where they watched the match, Morte and Guerra cursed profusely. Standing, the darkest horseman grit her teeth against the pain threatening to cripple her, "find Viluppo, and get to the car."

The argument well in the lightest horseman's throat only to be stopped dead when Abeebah raised her hand, "don't argue with me Brandon, just please get our sister to the car, I'll be there soon." The younger Johns stared his dark sister down, not willing to back down this time. "No." Abeebah's ocher glare darted between her brother and Mankind, who was slowly making his way to the ring. Then the extreme legend grabbed a steel chair, making the decision for her. Morte growled lowly in her throat, sounding more akin to an animal rather than a human being.

Turning on her heel, the eldest of the four riders swiftly jumped over the barricade, Guerra not far behind her. She passed the announce table, nary a glance McMahon's way, even as she armed herself with a steel chair of her own. The second born horseman took it upon himself to keep, the bloated leech that was Kane's benefactor busy, while his sister went after Mankind. Kane, Undertaker, and the man officiating over their' match had no idea what was going on outside the ring. And Abeebah and Brandon intended to keep it that way.

"Oh my God Morte is going after Mankind with a steel chair!" JR couldn't believe his eyes. He watched the two eldest horsemen seemingly intercept a plot to interfere with this match. Vince sat beside him, livid as he watched his ingenious plan go down the drain. Yet all he could do was sit and watch, knowing that he would only get hurt if he got involved directly. Austin laughed at the entire situation; he didn't really give a damn who won this match. Hell, he would fight em' both if he could. King was indignant for no reason at all.

Abeebah hefted her last minute weapon with only minor difficulty, taking advantage of the fact that Mick Foley was more concentrated on getting to the apron, rather than paying any attention to her. She swung the chair perpendicularly toward the back of schizophrenic man's head, using the velocity of the swing to add more weight to the hit. And just as Mankind reached for the second rope, a sickening crack filled the arena. Distracted Taker glanced toward were he heard the sound, and away from his much focused, very determined, and very dangerous opponent.

It was all the chance Kane needed, upper cutting his older sibling and forcing him into the corner. Taker grunted and cursed himself for becoming distracted. Outside the ring Abeebah curses just as much albeit more fluently as the pain registered on already red hot nerves. Mankind was slowly getting to his feet, but the eldest horseman managed to heft her weapon again. This time she aimed for his knees. It connected and its poor victim didn't have enough air left in his lungs to scream. And then Kane managed to lift his brother into position a tombstone.

Abeebah glanced up, dropping the chair in her hand and calling out to Brandon, whom was still distracting Bearer. "Come on, let's get out of here." She had no intention of collapsing here, because she had no doubt that was going to happen once Kane dropped Taker on his head. Her brother did what she asked, nary a glance toward the man he just harassed. They quickly made their' way up the ramp, the elder horseman sure that she wouldn't be able to withstand what was to come next. She couldn't have been more right.


	19. Ye Of Little Faith

A/N: Well it's been awhile since I updated this fic so I think its time to finally add another chapter. Hopefully I'll get plenty of feedback. –Rei

* * *

Jeffery Nero Hardy was nervous. Now this was nothing new seeing as the more eccentric half of the Hardy boys was always a nervous ball of energy. Always on edge and always ready to do something largely considered stupid. But the artist of team extreme could usually keep a handle on said energy, honing it into a finely sharpened weapon of mayhem that he used inside the squared circle on a regular basis. However, right now the blond/pink haired young man was almost at the end of his rope watching Morte and Guerra make a hasty retreat from a backstage monitor. His brother didn't quite understand why he was so attached to Viluppo, let alone her other slightly less insane siblings.

But then again, Matt was less sensitive then Jeff, and could never quite understand the insanity that drove the younger Hardy. Jeff's girlfriend and her wily siblings on the other hand, did. 'Well maybe not Abeebah.' The high flyer thought wryly. The eldest horseman was the ultimate pragmatist and stayed well enough away from emotional issues, which confused the living hell out of him, seeing as she was related to one emotional issue on two legs and best friends with another. It was because of this that at one or another that he thought her often times cavalier if outright cold way of dealing with feelings was a mask that she would drop eventually.

But after dating Morte's youngest sibling for months, he began to realize that it wasn't a front. Jeff as always in his boarder line suicidal way even worked up the nerve to ask the scarred woman why she did it. She indulged his curiosity without so much a blink, _"same reason you do crazy shit, you need it, just like regardless of how much I don't understand I still need them." _She had informed him. Even now watching the obviously hindered gait of the eldest horseman, Jeff didn't know whether to pity or be envious of her almost utter lack of feelings.

If having to deal with others problems when she had enough on her own plate was the cost of having limited emotions, then Jeff certainly wouldn't want to be that way. Not that he would ever willing give up the rush of what he had anyway. Then again in Abeebah he found an acceptance that was rare, and unlike Matt or even his other 'friends' and family she felt no need to change him in the slightest nor had she even tried. And in the high flyer's mind that made Morte a better person then most. Not everyone could accept someone as they were, good or ill.

And now Morte was putting herself in very real danger. If not from the brothers who would probably see her actions as interference then from Paul Bearer. And the manipulative mutated slug would definitely go after her, not to mention Mankind whom she had flattened quite skillfully with a steel chair. The fact that she wasn't a hundred percent didn't help either. Jeff bit his lip, honestly considering the thought of getting involved when his girlfriend had explicitly told him not to. But then the two horsemen headed to the garage and out of the camera's sight.

* * *

Abeebah was barely holding on by a thread by the time she and Brandon made it to the car. Her younger brother had a tight grip on her arm, preventing the eldest Johns from collapsing. The darkest horseman's feet had nearly gave out on her when they had made a b line up the ramp, but Guerra had noticed instantly and grabbed her arm in the pretense of making her go faster. There was no stopping gravity by the time the second eldest horseman opened the back door. Abeebah couldn't prevent the veil on the brothers' end from dropping, and jolting aches from being dropped on the head finally overcome her steely will. Brandon easily caught his elder sister, barely cowed that she chose now to lose it.

Evan and Delia on the other hand were not so calm. They were nearly frantic to get their' fallen leader into the rental that the youngest horseman had arranged for them. The younger half of the horsemen pulled her into the back seat and shut the door behind her, while Brandon took to the driver's seat, speeding away into the night. He didn't dare glance back, heading to the hotel address that their' little businessman had arranged for them to stay in. McMahon would be on the hunt for them soon enough, but they needed to be prepared.

'Armed with a good night's sleep and more contingencies than an eight figure lawyer,' the hammer of the horsemen thought somewhat satirically. Viluppo sat in the backseat with Morte's head in her lap, and a cold compress against the dark horseman's forehead. They had prepared for this eventuality, ever mindful of empathy that existed between Abeebah and the brothers of the night. Still, Delia's hand shook as she tended to her only sister. And Evan couldn't help but glance back from his seat, shot gunning for his brother.

They arrived at the hotel some time later, luckily without incident, however the eldest horseman was still unconscious. Brandon had to carry her from the parking lot, to the elevator, and all the way to the rather expensive bedroom suite that Evan had arranged for her. Usually the four siblings would share rooms like the other wrestlers, but the youngest horseman thought it best that they each got their' own room. And each of the younger Johns would take turns watching over Abeebah until she was well enough to look after herself. The second eldest horseman placed his comatose sibling on the king sized bed facing the balcony.

And for a moment, Brandon felt a zing of jealousy, only for it to be squashed resoundingly when said sister emitted a pained moan. Removing the porcelain white mask Abeebah had worn to the show, he immediately moved to turn on the television to see what happened since he and his fellow horsemen made their' hasty retreat. Delia picked up the phone to order them all food, and Evan pulling the heavy covers over his sister's shivering form joined Brandon on the antique couch in front of the TV.

* * *

Taker lay in the center of the ring, breathing in harsh pants, eyes closed, and unable to think straight. Kane, flush with victory over his brother, had already moved toward where Stone Cold now stood staring at the very person who was likely to take his title. His usually easy gate was now mechanically stiff, he could feel blackness creeping up on the edges of his vision, making the chrisom demon want to either faint or throw up. Obviously, Tomb stoning Undertaker wasn't the best idea.

The big red machine quickly shoved the agony into a deep dark corner in the back of his mind, staring at the rattlesnake. The bald headed redneck had removed his headset and was boring holes into his mismatch gaze with his mouth slightly agape. Yet still there was a steely determination in those Texas sky blue eyes, and Kane aimed to break it. He paid no mind to his cackling father, nor to his equally certifiable lackey.

Both eyes blue and green burned with a threat that the younger Calloway didn't bother voicing, even as he brought his aching arms up slowly, Kane dropped them down signaling the pyros to go off in the turnbuckles. Bearer looked on in pride, even as Mankind Maguire managed to join him at ring side. And though Kane didn't notice, those watching him did. To the spectators save an informed few, the big red machine had screwed his own brother, despite Morte's best efforts. Vince was all smug smiles either way.

* * *

He got to his feet straightening out his jacket, and headed back to his temporary base of operations. He had planning to do. He had already decided on the where and when, June 28th, King of the Ring, Stone Cold Steve Austin would defend his title. Suddenly, just a few paces from his 'office' the salt and pepper haired man froze. And a spontaneous burst of antagonism bled across his vision, 'now what to do with those meddling kids?' "Mr. McMahon?" Snapping out of his momentary murderous thoughts Vince glanced at the older of his two stooges' the first ever intercontinental champion Pat Patterson.

The slightly older man looked vaguely concerned at his employer, and Vince smothered the snort that wanted to work its way passed his lips. Years of clawing his way to the top of this industry had the sports tycoon with no doubts that the thing his once star attraction was worried about was his paycheck. It didn't matter if they had been in business together for almost since the beginning, it didn't matter that once upon a time Vince called Patterson friend, and it didn't matter that time and power had turned both he and his once friend into corporate monsters.

Shaking off the last visages of useless musings, Vince trekked the last few feet to his 'office.' And as soon as his hand came into contact with the doorknob, the millionaire hissed in pain, and tried to pull his hand away. Unfortunately for Vince the stubborn piece of hardware refused to give under the full brunt of his weight. Hot unbidden tears began to roll down his face, the McMahon patriarch's hand quickly searing to the knob. He screamed for help, causing Patterson and the cameraman whom had been following them to panic. Uselessly they also screamed for help, Vince's associate trying to help his employer pull away from the white hot piece of hardware but too no avail.

* * *

In their' hotel room the remaining horsemen laughed till fat tears drenched salty paths down their' cheeks. They watched in morbid delight as the orchestrator of their sister's pain fruitlessly squealed in agony. The elder McMahon's minions were worthless as Viluppo's trap was sprung. A doorknob transformed into a white hot poker, that Vince as unable to let go of thanks in part to industrial strength heat sealant. 'Its times like these that I wish I ordered pop corn.' Delia thought with a red cheek grin. Her brothers too were smirking ear to ear.

Well, Evan still was, but Brandon took one glance to where Abeebah still lay, dead to the world, and his maliciously amused mood dropped promptly. Though the retaliation against McMahon had gone flawlessly revenge wouldn't undo the damage that had already undoubtedly been done. At the end of the day Kane and Undertaker would still be at each other's throats and his sister would pay the price in pain because of it. Quickly turning from the sight lest he ruin his younger siblings' good mood, Brandon tried to focus on the futile attempts of McMahon trying to not pass out in sheer agony.

After an indefinite amount of time, and more than a dozen medical personnel attempted to coerce, chisel, and outright rip the business tycoon's hand from the white hot knob, someone finally grew a brain and called 911. The paramedics rushed to the scene not long after, with a band saw and cut the piece of hardware from the door. By this time Vince's screams were reduced to pious sobs and sheets of tears.

They discovered the rather intricate rig behind the door. A blow torch was taped to the door with a thick hose attached to the nozzle and fed into the shorn off part of door, where the knob used to be. No one dared touch it, seeing as the heat coming off of it was near unbearable. Brandon raised an eyebrow at his younger sister, the question lingering in his green/hazel gaze. Delia lifted her thin shoulders in a graceless shrug, "you said, "Make it painful", you didn't specify the how painful." The second eldest horseman snorted but didn't argue.

Evan on the other hand looked worried, "as amusing and appropriate as that was Delia, McMahon is going to be on the hunt and with us as the prime suspects." His second third eldest sibling didn't disagree but she wasn't about to be cowed by her only younger sibling. "Then we have the advantage." She replied succulently, "he'll be coming to us, and not to mention Vince will be too mad to think straight." Now Evan didn't argue with her logic but added his own, "Beebs has enough to deal with the Taker and Kane, we don't need to add on the asshole as well." Seeing she wasn't going to win the argument Viluppo sighed.

* * *

The next morning Abeebah woke up before the sun with the mother of all headaches. She groaned, unable to see straight for a grand total of ten minutes. Finally after the fifth attempt of trying to get up on her own the darkest horsemen gave up and flopped into the giant white and gold pillows stacked behind her. "Abeebah?" She glanced over toward where the low voice originated and was confronted with the sight of her youngest brother dressed in his 'ring attire'. In one hand Evan held a glass of water and fisted in the other Abeebah could only assume were some type of painkillers. Or at least that was what she feverous hoped for.

"Abeebah?" this time her brother's voice was much closer, as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "The brothers?" she croaked questionably. For a moment the littlest horseman didn't say anything, not sure if he should, but looking at his sister's glazed hazel glare was enough to warn him not to take that route. "Kane won, and I don't know where Taker went after the match, no one does." The light skinned boy stalled anymore of Abeebah's questions by prying open her jaw and feeding her the painkillers he had bought her. Then, helping her sit up, the youngest horseman assisted Abeebah in downing the glass of water.

The dark beauty took deep gulps of air as Evan helped her slowly lower herself back onto the pillows. Dark eyes cast down overtly at the coverlet he was currently pulling over his sister's form; he deliberately missed the clenched teeth glare Abeebah was currently shooting his way. "Slaughter has ordered an interview with Brandon, Delia will be staying here and checking in on you." He told her once she was settled. "And you?" "I'm going with Brandon, McMahon might be out of commission for now but since when has that stopped him?" His sister smirked weakly in agreement even as he got up to leave. However just as he opened the door he was shoved back inside by a seemingly livid Undertaker.


	20. Painful Lessons In Love

A/N: Hey everybody, this chappie is going to get a little hot and heavy so be warned. I'm not very good a this sort of thing but what the hell? I'll give it a shot any way. –Rei

* * *

Songs to listen to when you read this chapter: Always by Saliva Hollow by Submersed

* * *

Had she the energy to do so, Abeebah would have let out a vile string of acidic curses that would have made even the most worldly person blanch. But as it was, she hadn't enough to spare beyond glaring up at one of the causes of all her current problems. Mark had come dressed in sweats, his insipid skin sporting a colorful array of bruising. "Evan go," the eldest horseman didn't even allow for her youngest sibling to open his mouth. She knew what was coming would be a lot uglier than what he could handle. "Like hell- "Shut up and go Evan, and I mean now." The darkest horseman snarled coldly.

And blinked even as her youngest brother quickly moved to do as she said, icy fury stung a prickly path down her throat and to the pit of her stomach. Abeebah knew what was happening to her and didn't care. If anyone had the right to be pissed, it was her, and she was going to remind her elder bond mate of that very fact. The slow burning headache that had been compressing inside her skull ever since she woken, died an arctic death under the tons of frost currently coating Abeebah's psyche.

"You interfered." Mark's words were a breathy snarl, the complex emotions filtering out of him through his voice. Rage at being 'betrayed' being the chief one. It only ticked her off more, "have you lost what little sense you had, everyone and their' mothers interfered in that match long before I did." Abeebah sat up, "or are you forgetting Vince and you old friend Pillsbury dough boy who used to get high off of embalming fluids." The elder Calloway's eyes flashed with even more rage as he moved to loom completely over her.

"I won't say this again, this isn't your fight- "Yes, it, is," the dark woman's eyes were absolutely livid, "this stopped being about just you two when you couldn't keep it between yourselves- Mark, turning the tables on Abeebah cut her off, brutally attaching his lips to hers. Pale drawn lips pried open their' dark counterparts, a slick long tongue took advantage, slipped inside the confines of the mouth of the woman beneath him. And though he would never admit it, it felt damn good to hold his youngest bond mate again.

Mark's three hundred pound frame forced her much smaller one down, even as he grasped the back of her head pulling her deeper into the punishing kiss. Abeebah hooked her leg behind Mark's thigh and shoved at his shoulder with surprising strength, causing him to fall off of her. The darkest horseman immediately rolled on top of him, she joined in the dance of tongue and teeth, refusing to be dominated in any way. Her sharp nails dug into Mark's shoulders, causing him to hiss and yank her head back in retaliation.

His dark bond mate snarled in pain, her neck arched vulnerably to him as he sat up and sunk his teeth into her pulse point. Punishingly her nails dragged up his neck and slid into his hair leaving behind a path of razed welts. Not willing to let the pain inflicted on him go unchallenged, Mark pulled harder on the fistful of chocolate tresses wrapped around his large fist. Swiftly he rolled them over once again on top of his youngest bond mate. Once again Abeebah tried to dislodge his superior weight, arching up off the mattress.

She only succeeded in pressing her chest tighter into his, fueling the incensed lust that had been too long ignored. Mark couldn't stop the groan that resonated deep in his chest. Pulling the dark wrestler's thigh high over his hip, deadman once again nipped at plump lips demanding entrance. Abeebah did not deny him, burying her fingers deeper into his auburn mane, and sucking on his bottom lip. A base growl erupted from his throat, now impatient to have nothing between them, skin on skin.

Breaking from the kiss, Mark abruptly tore the hoody over Abeebah's head, throwing it to the floor, and completely ignoring the solid black bra she wore underneath. The eldest horseman exhaled sharply as her pale companion drew his own shirt off and threw it toward some indiscriminate corner. And unable to stop herself from doing so, Abeebah traced the tattoos on Mark's stomach with her fingers. Hotly the phenom trailed his own calloused hands down Abeebah's now bare sides and toward the edge of Abeebah's drawstring pants. And just as his fingers grasped at the hem of the article of clothing, his bond mate's hand shot out, stilling him from his course of getting rid of it. Their gazes met and clashed.

And for an instant they were frozen in a moment of mutual understanding. This wasn't lust on the cusp of love, at best they were friends. No amount of time or particular fondness could change that. Still Mark could see the uneasiness in her all but luminescent gaze. "You haven't let anyone else touch you." The whispered truth made him all the more aroused, especially when his half query was answered by a petal soft kiss. Pulling away just as quickly as she gave the kiss, Abeebah helped him pull off her pants, lifting her pelvis so that the article could slide passed her hips and down her legs.

Abeebah kicked her pants off the rest of the way, sending them flying. Her elder bond mate glanced down, noting the rather girlish teal tanga panties. Mark was abruptly reminded that though she hit like a man, Abeebah was all woman. Abruptly he cupped her derriere, squeezing the fleshy orb through the lace of her underwear, grinding his erection against her still clothed center. Abeebah moaned, pulling her lover's head down so that she could suckle on his ear, worrying it between her teeth. Erotic snarls erupted from him, and they proceeded to tear off the few articles of clothing they had left.

* * *

Evan went to his brother's hotel room, still shaken with his brush with almost certain death. His eldest sibling, injured or not was one scary bitch. 'Even scarier than the deadman,' he questioned himself. And prayed that it was so, because there was no way he was going back there to see the situation implode. Delia was there and she was the one who let him in, even as their brother inspected his own reflection in the antique mirror. The second eldest horseman was dressed in a crisp white button down shirt under a classically cut red and brown waist coat, with a pair of chocolate brown slacks, and equally tailored matching brown boots.

The youngest horseman raised an eyebrow at the formal look, chuckling even as brother sent him a rather asinine scowl. "Why'd ya stick him in that get up?" he asked his sister as she went to hand Brandon his red silk tie and brown dinner jacket. His elder sibling threw him a 'look' over her shoulder, "we do have an image to protect now ya know." Brandon snorted even as he put on the tie and coat, brushing off imaginary lent. "We're the horsemen for God's sake woman, not show ponies." The light skinned apocalypse rider just clucked her tongue. "Don't be mad at me," she told her elder brother, "Beebs is the one who set the precedent for class."

Evan winced in sympathy as Delia moved in front of their second eldest sibling and deliberately tightened the tie. The green eyed Johns grimaced down at her, "still did you have to choose something so stiff." Playful cappuccino stared at her handy work, taking in the roman style haircut and single golden earring, which were the only 'loose' aspects about the outfit. Then she looked at her brother's miserable expression and finally caved with a huff. "You're lucky I bought just the thing, lose the jacket and pants."

Delia moved to the bed not even glancing to see Brandon doing as she instructed. Roving through the many bags she had set on the bed, the most vicious horseman tossed her sibling pair black jeans, and a matching leather black and red biker jacket. She then grabbed a pair of fingerless gloves and tossed them to Brandon, not even looking over her shoulder to see if he caught them. The second youngest horseman's gaze then focused upon her only younger sibling. "Speaking about her fearless leader, how was she doing?" Evan bit back the foul language that wanted to spill forth. That was exactly the question that he didn't want to answer.

The most temperamental of the Johns siblings took in her brother's sudden stillness with a blink, and then she was moving to the door, only to be stopped by said horseman. "She's fine," Evan forced the words passed his constricted throat. All too aware that now both Viluppo and Guerra were now boring holes into his narrow frame. "Evan," the voice of the hammer of the horsemen held a wealth of warning, which was not so surprisingly much more threatening then the presence of their sister who was closer.

"She's awake," he told them quickly letting go of Viluppo's arm and stepping further away from them both. Glares deepened and Lue raised placating hands in hopes to ward off any momentary violent actions they might resort to. "Taker came by, and I can only imagine that they are having they're having some rather serious words." "And you left her alone with him?" Evan wasn't surprised when both Delia and Brandon descended upon him with twin looks of equal parts horror and malice. "Would you want to be in between them in an argument?" he retorted weakly.

For a moment both of the horsemen froze, seeing as they both could honestly see where their' younger brother was coming from. Then they both thought about just how ugly the situation Abeebah was currently in could get. "You still shouldn't have left her alone!" Delia all but snarled, shoving her way passed Evan. Once again the youngest horseman grabbed her arm, preventing her from leaving. He knew that though his immediate health was on the line, so two was his long term health.

And was more worried about what Abeebah could do to him than what Delia would probably do. Brandon was only slightly more understanding than his younger sister and wouldn't move to interfere with whatever fight that was going to happen between Taker and their sister. "Whoa, hold up there Del, that is not a good idea and you know it, leave it alone." They apocalyptic rider of chaos broke his hold, stubbornly determined to aid her ailing sister. Evan and Brandon had no choice but to follow.

"It might not be a good idea Evan but it's an even worse idea to leave them alone while Abeebah is too tired to be civil." She retorted, stalking her way down the hall and around the corner. "Look, I don't like it anymore than you do, but the fact remains that whatever happens, it's between them, period." Delia didn't even glance his way, "even if it results in a body bag?" Again he grabbed her hand, holding on tight when she tried to shake him off. "It won't and you know it, you saw how he looks at her Delia, even when he was piss shit mad Taker listened to Abeebah."

He forcefully turned her around, "and this is no different." Delia bit her lip, glancing behind Evan to Brandon who had followed them out the room. The second eldest horseman was stone faced at the sight of her agitated conflict with both herself and Evan. They all knew what the apocalyptic rider of pestilence said was true, but that didn't make them worry any less. The willowy young woman turned to look at her sister's hotel room door. She hadn't even noticed they had arrived.

* * *

Inside the room, the three horsemen couldn't hope to know the blinding pleasure being imposed upon their sister by her persistent, not to mention thorough lover. Mark rode her in a slow deliberately invasive pace, taking in each gasp, sigh, and any other involuntary sounds of pleasure he drug out of her. Abeebah was by no means a vocal lover so every sound she made was like a roadmap to be followed to their mutual pleasure. Abeebah held on to him for dear life, her curvy form coiled around him in a tangle of dark and alabaster limbs.

And Mark gasped harshly; sweat beading at his brow, trickling down his face and neck, down his chest, and in his navel. One of his hands fisted at the side of his bondmate's head, nearly ripping the fabric that they were both laid out on. The other gripped at the heavy fall of her breast, squeezing the glob with an almost punishing grip. He couldn't help but feel like 'this' was what he and Kane were missing. The complete and utter acceptance of Abeebah, they needed to know the utter certainty that at the end of the day she would care. And he, like his little brother, had denied it, denied the fact that they needed Abeebah.

The darkest horseman only made it easier when she had allowed them to withdraw from her both mentally and physically. It was only now, while he moved inside of her, possessed this particular facet of her near nonexistent passion, that he realized that he was more enraged by Abeebah's absence rather than her interference. Mark didn't like the implications that led to, not in the least. So he did the only thing he could think of lest his thoughts ruin this moment. He opened his mind as wide as he dare to her. Took in what his bond mate was projecting through their link, seeing all the things neither said out loud.

Abeebah was just as angry as he, dragging blunted nails down his spine, her intimate muscles stretching uncomfortably with each inward thrust. Lonely from months of neglect on both Kane and his part, the darkest horseman had every intention of hurting him anyway she could when he had barged into her room. His youngest bond mate hadn't known what to do when he and his brother all but abandoned her. And like so many times before, Abeebah decided it was better to leave them alone, and let them work it out amongst themselves. That is, until the problem escalated to the point she felt she had no choice but to interfere.

Yet now kissing her, and taking her to the heights of rapture as he was Taker found that Abeebah was too far gone to stay mad. Pleasurable agony heighted already acute senses to near unbearable levels, drowning them both in a myriad of sensations and symphony of mixed emotions. And somewhere along the line the biting chill gave way to a smoldering inferno. They both could not hold back thunderous gasp as another 'joined' in their carnal game. 'Too much!' Abeebah's mind voice was hoarse with the strain on her overtaxed limits. And just as they were about to shatter both Mark and Abeebah heard voices coming from outside.

They froze, any pleasure that could have been had ground to a complete halt. Their eyes locked on the ornate doors, one thought ringing in their still closely linked minds, 'SHIT!' Unthinkingly the demon of Death Valley pulled away from the willing body beneath him, causing them both to hiss. They ignored the mess the sloppy exit caused as they rolled out of the large bed, collecting clothes as fast as their decidedly lethargic limbs would allow. It was a seemingly impossible task to be completed in the small expanse of time they had but they managed.

Yet they did so just in time to hear the doorknob turn. It only took a few strides for Mark to eat up the distance between them, heatedly pressing his lips against hers. 'Thursday,' he slipped his tongue inside her hot cavern, 'meet me at Riverparc.' Gasping her assent Abeebah pushed away from her elder bond mate and practically ran to the bathroom. And just as the door to her hotel room opened, Taker slipped into the shadows.

Her siblings were too busy arguing amongst each other to notice the stench of sweat and sex in the air. Closing the bathroom door, Abeebah slid down onto the tiled floor. And she realized three things. One, the place where she was to meet Mark was in Pittsburg Pennsylvania. Two, she would be meeting him on Thursday, the day of Kane's match against Austin. And three, she had just agreed to go on a date with the deadman. Pulling her knees to her chest, the eldest horseman leaned her head back against the bathroom door. 'What the fuck am I doing?'

* * *

A/N: I hope everybody liked this part. Anway send plenty of feedback, I know I'm not good at this sort of thing but I need the practice.


	21. Opinions You'll Probably Not Want

A/N:Thank you DK for helping me pick out Beebs dress, for some odd reason I was stuck on that one little detail. Anyway I made this chappie pretty short because the pace just worked. Don't ask me why. Anyway I'll be updating again soon so don't worry.

* * *

She stood in front of the building, unusually uncomfortable with what she was about to do. It shouldn't matter. It was just practical, especially when Abeebah considered what had happened in her encounter with the elder of her two bond mates, but she was no less uneasy about it. The eldest horseman forced herself to take a deep breath and walk into the clinic. She was immediately greeted by an overly cheery assistant. "Ms. Johns?" Mutely the hazel eyed young woman nodded.

"Doctor Lennox has been expecting you; just go to that second examination room over there." The woman pointed vaguely over to a far off corner. And mumbling an equally general word of thanks Abeebah made her way to that room. The dark beauty entered, not bothering with knocking on the partially opened door. She quickly took in the sterile sights and smells of the tiny space, sweeping her eyes over the various charts and doctorial books crammed on the few shelves.

The darkest horseman did her best to ignore the examination table she was most likely to be laid out on in the immediate future. Finally her eyes landed on the doctor himself, who was sitting at a small desk hunched over one file or another. He was younger than the eldest horseman expected. Around twenty something or thereabouts by her reckoning, small, not startling so but enough that Abeebah would take notice. "Dr. Lennox?" Immediately whisky eyes were met by dark, almost black eyes.

Thin lips stretched into a welcoming smile and deceptively weathered hands waved her over to have a seat on the examination table. Slowly Abeebah took the invitation, not letting her eyes leave the good doctor's. "So what can I do for you today Ms. Johns?" Lennox's weighted voice washed over her, Italian, she identified, trying to stop the overwhelmed once again by what she deemed necessary. The young man knew she was stalling with her silence and let her.

Abeebah Johns wasn't the first young woman he had to deal with and the fact that she was over eighteen both baffled and relieved him as a general practitioner. "I need contraception." Lennox blinked, and wondered how the young woman could be so blunt yet remain tactful at the same time. Maintaining the easy relaxed air that he already established the Italian American cocked his head. "Ok, I need to ask you a few questions, now if there is anything you are uncomfortable with, or you have questions of your own just stop me." Abeebah nodded slowly, fighting the blush that wanted to heat her face.

Clapping his hands together Lennox leaned back in his seat, "ok first question; are you sexually active?" "Yes." Cold, flat, and sharp, Abeebah strived to establish her usual way of dealing things outside her comfort zone. "Did you talk to your partner or partners about this before coming here? And if so have you already taken measures against STD's and or pregnancy." Too embarrassed to look him in the face, the eldest horseman finally bowed her head, "no and no." Lennox was only mildly surprised, "first time?" He asked sympathetically. Abeebah couldn't stop the flush from blazing her exposed throat. "Yes." She said out loud, with her face thankfully concealed by her hair, because had the horseman's first lady looked up, her face would have said 'No.'

* * *

Kane glowered as best as he was able to through the eye holes of his mask, at the maniacal twosome sitting before the mending McMahon. Mismatched eyes stared black voids into the back of their heads. The big red machine didn't want to be here; despite the opportunity to know what else his 'father' had been scheming. His attention lay more on his younger bond mate whom had been doing schemes of her own. He had already tried to read what she was thinking twice. The first time was just after he had gotten backstage, only to see a replay of Morte's interference.

Almost automatically Kane had called forth what little rage that hadn't been drained from his match forth, demanding answers. The younger Calloway brother couldn't stop the flinch that shifted his entire being, as he remembered the livid agony that answered him. Then blushed as his thoughts turned to his second attempt, all too glad that no one could be witness to the shade of chrisom that he was sure was ablaze his features. It was like being pulled out with the tide, experiencing 'them' again.

There was no control, and no way to save himself, and on some level Kane hadn't wanted to. It was just something so 'right' about being with Abeebah and Mark. And even though physically he wasn't there, it didn't mean that Glen was any less drawn. Suddenly the brunette's attention was drawn back to were his employer was informing Paul and Mankind on his plans for Thursday. "We don't want any screw ups, so Mankind, you will be in a hell in the cell match against the Undertaker." The business tycoon informed his most deranged employee. Mankind twitchily clapped his hands in maniacal glee.

Kane wasn't surprised when his stomach lurched, imagining the kind of fight that would culminate between the two most sadistic wrestlers to grace the WWF. He knew that there wasn't going to be anything pretty in **that **match. And unconsciously the big man prayed for his brother's safety. "Wot about that harlot an er' bunch?" It took all of Glen's self control not to deck his portly benefactor. If anything, Vince's expression became even smugger as he leaned back in his tall wing back chair. "Since Morte has 'recovered' I'm sure she wouldn't mind teaming up with her sister against the headbangers in a no holds bared match."

The masked demon stilled. His entire being abruptly filled with ferocity that sorely tested the glacial stoicism that he had learned from both of his bondmates. 'Don't move, don't think, and don't you dare feel.' It was a useless demand upon himself seeing the despite the added chill of Abeebah's way of thinking, Kane could feel the white hot rage stacking like columns of blistering coals. He could hardly concentrate on his employer's next words. "As for Guerra, he'll be too busy in the king of the ring tournament to be of any use."

Masked lips curled back to reveal menacing white teeth. The chrisom demon fought the quaking rage that struggled to pulse through his entire frame. It was a futile battle, but the three conspirators were too busy to take notice of the red burning in those usually forest and crystal depths. It was a uphill battle to maintain his mental facilities but Kane managed it. The horsemen wouldn't be hurt by this particular scheme. Viluppo had already shown how devastating she could be and Kane had no doubts about how far Morte could and would go. But still, the big red machine resolved to 'talk' to Lue as soon as possible.

* * *

Thursday morning Abeebah stared blankly at the outfits she laid out on her bed for her 'date', and wondered not for the first time what exactly she had gotten herself into. Taker had already called the day before to tell her exactly when they were meeting. 'We are not a couple.' She kept telling herself even as she contemplated what she was going to wear. Then, in a fit of her old analytical ways the darkest horseman listed the reasons why she didn't want to be 'official' and there were many. One, it was too complicated. 'Not that you haven't done complicated before.' Her treacherous heart retorted.

"Whoa." The eldest Johns shuck herself into back into full awareness, glancing over her shoulder. 'Fuck.' Standing by her hotel room door was Viluppo. The most sinister of the apocalyptic riders' light skinned sister looked morbidly at the rather unorthodox array spread out before her. One dress was classic Abeebah, a black cut out chiffon dress with a wide collar and sheer bell sleeves that bunched at the wrist.

The next dress, for a lack of a better term was a complete 180 from her sister's norm. For one thing it was white, a color that Abeebah looked phenomenal in, yet still despised. For another thing, the ancient Egyptian style based 'dress' would most certainly contour to her generous curves. And the sheerness of the fabric promised to conceal very little. In short, it was the third born horseman's opinion that the article of clothing literally screamed "fuck me!"

Tucking that particular thought away for later examination Delia turned her attention the final choice her sister had lain out. The last dress, though just as classy as the first still managed be twice as sexy with a dangerously plunging neckline and curve hugging ankle length a line skirt. The acid green color reminded Delia almost uncomfortably of a certain deadman. The second youngest Johns glanced at her sister, all too aware of the blank stare she got in return. "And who are you going on a date with?" She asked slyly realizing that she couldn't give Abeebah any wiggle room if she wanted answers.

"I'll be out for a couple hours," Abeebah evaded, "so don't wait up for me, I'll meet you at the arena." The eldest horseman turned, not even looking down at the dress she grabbed from her bed. But her sister wasn't about to let her go that easily. "Nice try Beebs, now come tell little sister what's up." The light skinned horseman effortlessly maneuvered her eldest sibling to sit on the edge of the bed. Grasping the young woman's unoccupied hand the third eldest horseman made sure that there was no chance of escape.

Even though Abeebah's features remained bland Delia was more than a little bit aware that her sister would have loved nothing more than to glare at her. "So who is it?" And for a painful moment the darkest o horseman said nothing. She felt trapped knowing that lying was not an option and yet still unwilling to tell the truth. 'How does one explain to their younger sister that in essence their mother figure is married, and has been for months now?'

And for Abeebah the answer was pretty straight forward, you didn't, ever. "Do I need a reason to dress up Delia? Especially with our impending doom," the doe eyed beauty scowled. Both for the fact that once again her liege lady had once again dodged her line of questioning and for the fact that Abeebah had a point. "Only if you had fear for your life, which beloved older sibling you don't, so I suggest you answer my question."

The ocher eyed wrestler clucked her tongue reproachfully, not letting her dry wit fall under the deep scrutiny that Delia seemed determined to place her peculiar actions under. "Just be glad I've decided against getting roaring drunk while I'm at it." 'Not that the thought hasn't crossed my mind' Abeebah thought wryly, discreetly removing her hand from Delia's and moving to get a quick shower. So stunned by the implications of Abeebah's words, Delia didn't question her further and merely watched as she went to the bathroom.

* * *

Mark gazed at the grounds of which he waited for the darker of his two bond mates. This land was rich in spirit. He could see it in the people who now frequent it, smell on the air, feel it thrumming through his skin. There were deep magicks imbedded into the soil, and this was part of the reason why he had specified this meeting place. The park was too alive for them to be tracked, or at least by anyone that was not of their trinity. The deadman had no idea whether or not Kane would be able to feel their presence in this sacred space.

"Hello Mark," the phenom turned around and was confronted by Abeebah in all her dark glory. The eldest horseman wore a green dress that conformed sinfully to her shapely frame. The plunging neckline was almost level with her navel, tied off with a thin sash made of the same shimmery material. He followed the length of the dress down to her silver high heeled feet, taking in the entire effect. In a word Abeebah looked stunning.

Her deeply bronzed hair hung in a dark wave down her back, save the bangs concealing her scar. Which, Mark noticed, was becoming an ingrained habit considering the constant recognition and stares that she received because of it, many of the wrestlers back stage might of seen it, but none of her fans as of yet had. Deadman held out his arm for her to take out of habit, and she took it without thinking, flashing the only piece of jewelry that she had dined to wear to this outing. It was a finely crafted sliver bangle that wrapped around the upper portion of her arm, with lotus flowers flanking the ankh in the center.

He quirks a miniscule smile, his acid green gaze finally locking on her bland features, "nice." Abeebah ran an applicative eye down his chiseled form. "Thank you, you're not looking bad yourself." She said and she meant it. The demon of Death Valley left his long auburn hair loose over his broad shoulders which were clad in a light gray button down shirt, which he had tucked in his black jeans. And almost against her will, the eldest horseman's eyes zeroed in on said jeans, taking in just how well her elder bond mate wore them.

"Like wot cha see darlin?" Tearing her hazel gaze from the admirable sight, Abeebah's revealed her teeth in a liberal smirk. Moving even closer so that her side was all but plastered against his, the eldest horseman sent him a saucy look before deliberately pulling away, causing the phenom to growl. "Damn straight, I like." She informed him quite bluntly, "but you didn't invite me here to just screw around otherwise you'd just have told me where your hotel room was."

Taker grunted not at all surprised that she was able to deduce that this was more than a roll in the hay. But then again he wasn't ready to answer the implied question caressing his psyche. He pulled her along with a gentle but firm grip, taking in the sights around them. Abeebah doesn't push, she never pushes and Mark can't help but be irritated by her seemingly endless patience. 'Not endless Mark, far from endless, just really, really, long.' She informs him dryly.

The red haired wrestler didn't bother suppressing the snort that worked its way up his throat, dispelling the tension that had unconsciously built in his shoulders. 'Still, that leaves a man wondering what it'll take for that patience to run out.' Mark studiously watched their surroundings. Abeebah blew out a frustrated breath, still not understanding why one of the men who were supposed to know her the best felt the need to try her already frayed nerves. 'I don't know what kinda confession you're hope'n for old man but you're not getting it that way not now, not ever.' Abruptly she stopped and reaching up to cup his cheek Abeebah glared into Mark's hypnotizing orbs, 'so say what you mean or say nothing at all.'


	22. This Means War

A/N: I owe a lot of my inspiration for this chappie to the newest installment to the Under World Series: Rise of the Lycans. Plus my musi have been fighting back and forth whether or not Kane would keep the title for more than a day. And since my brain can't handle any more of their bitching and moaning, I've settled on a compromise. –Rei

P.S I also kept fighting myself about how long I was going to make this chappie, and since I haven't updated in a while I decided just to put this on and let my reader's imagination do the rest .:Smiles evilly:. I promise to update as soon as I can, but right now college papers are whipp'n my ass and I need serious vacation time from my rabbed musi.

* * *

**WWF Recap**

"_Good__evening__ ladies and gentleman and __welcome__to__ WWF __Recap__. I am __your__ host, Michael Cole, __reporting__ to you the happenings of __your__favorite__superstars__leading__ up to __King of the Ring__." The __youngest__ anchor on to roster smiled politely into the camera even as it switched from him standing in front of to pair of barrels sporting the raw logo, to footage of to elder Johns siblings intereference during __Kane__ and __Taker's__ number one contendership match. "A couple weeks ago WWF __superstars__Morte__ and __Guerra,__ two halves of the four horsemen got involved in a match between the brothers of the night, preventing Mankind from leveling the Undertaker with to steel to chair."_

_The camera switched footage, this time to Guerra sitting across from Jim Ross. "And even though his sister wasn't available for an interveiw, the hammer of the horsemen had plenty to say on to matter." The second eldest horseman was reclined laguidly in a fake to leather to chair, regarding the Oklahoma cowboy __through__ a __half__lidded__gaze__. "__Guerra__, everyone __is__ wondering, why did you and __your__to__sister__interfere__ in __the__ match __last__ night?"_ _"Well __as__ you know JR, Taker and Morte do have an understanding of each to other," Ross regarded him somewhat inquizitively, everyone still thought that the two wrestlers had __dwells__ romantic leanings in their relationship, __under__ the fact that Guerra wasn' t even alotting to their friendship was saying something. _

_The light skinned apocalyptic to rider ignored the look and contiued his explaination, "and one thing that they both have in common is that they hate intereference in their business, especially when that business __involves__ family." __Guerra__ let his voice trail off __ace__ if it explained everything. And in a way it did, __under__ nodding JR continued his line of questioning, "but the Undertaker lost that match, aren't you afraid what the deadman is going to do in retailation" The twenty year old shrugged his broad shoulders, "__He'__s probably too pissed with Mankind to pay any attention to me, not to mention that while __there__ Taker is bigger, stronger, and more experienced than I, I have Morte in my camp and __she__' s a hell of a lot meaner than Taker will to ever __be__."_

_JR chuckled, "well the Phenom will __sees__ getting his chance for revenge against Mankind at Judgment day in hell in a cell." __Guerra__'s lip twitched, to whether __he__ was fighting back a smile or to grimace the senior achor could only guess. "It __couldn't__' t happen to a nicer guy." The second eldest horsman said, his voice hedging on sarcastic. JR didn't' t know to whether __Guerra__ was __talking__about the deadman or his most unfortunate soon to be victim, Mankind. __And yet again the camera switched back to Michael Cole whom was watching the interveiw from a monitor slightly off camera. He gave the piece of equipment an asinine smile._

"_But for all Guerra's confidence in his lady's supreme ferocity, he probably had never witnessed the horrifying induced terror that is the Phenom's temper."Now video recordings from the raw after Abeebah returned from her near collapse the week before filled the screen. Everyone was on eggshells; the show was already started off as a roller coaster ride with McMahon interviewing Kane. Then there was the match between Road dog and the big red machine. The match lasted longer than anyone expected, but most attributed this to Kane wanting to draw out the beating. Then came Bearer's interveiw, the red haired Texan was home seeing as the week before the Undertaker had beaten him bloody. _

* * *

_The darkest horseman watched his interveiw over the titantron now, her thoughts and feelings impossible to discern. "Morte," The eldest horseman snapped out of her affixation. And glancing over her shoulder was confronted by the worried gaze of her sister's boyfriend. Jeff as usual was dressed in a colorful array of Goth punk attire. His skittle colored hair left hanging in a stringy mass about his shoulders. "Yes?" The darkest horseman's voice was as flat as usual, soft and indifferent to all whom had ears to hear. "Are you sure that you're up for tonight's match? I know it's not my place to – The horsemen's first lady held up a silencing hand, stopping him instantly. "I'm fine Beau, take a deep breath and chill."_

_The younger Hardy grimaced at the sound of his ill begotten nickname spilling forth from the stoic woman's lips. Crossing his arms the more insane half of team extreme pouted, "Well you must be feeling better if you're being so cruel." All he got in return was dark hazel eyes rolling. The royal purple mask that adorned Morte's face gave nothing else away. McMahon had been a busy little manipulative bastard these past two weeks, coming down hardest on the horsemen. First with a no disqualification match between Guerra and Steve Blackman, and then a handicap match between Viluppo and the head bangers. _

_To say the least, the results hadn't been pretty. The second eldest horseman had nearly broken his ribs thanks to various shots with a kendo stick. And Viluppo, Jeff couldn't help but grimace. If it hadn't been for himself and Morte then she wouldn't have made it out of the ring. Thus leading up to the match for Morte's punishment, it would be her turn to go up against the rockers tonight. And the younger Hardy had already been warned that his intereference would result in a suspension without pay. _

_As a result the three elder horsemen had been especially vigilant when it came to their youngest member. Lue might be officially untouchable, seeing as he was technically his siblings' employee, but it wasn't beyond Vince to fight dirty. Shaking his head Jeff focused back on his girlfriend's sister and then at the screen filled with the titantron, and Paul's face superimposed on it. "Where's deadman?" _

"_How should I- what the hell?!" Suddenly Morte's eyes were trained on the monitor. Jeff choked on a snort that wanted to be a gasp of astonishment as the odious Paul Bearer suddenly squealed in horror. The fat man had not a moment to inhale another breath to scream before the shadow of the Undertaker was upon him, fighting his way through what pitiful security his former guardian was able to dredge up, and knocking over lighting equipment as he made a furious charge at the sickly Bearer. And yet none were able to stop this one man force of nature from beating Kane's bloated benefactor on national television._

_The sheer brutality of the attack shouldn't have shocked the often times pragmatic and all too emotionally stunted eldest horseman. But Jeff and those watching the camera feed could see the rigid set in the darkest horseman's shoulders and deathly grip in which her fist clenched. And in their minds it could be nothing else. The clip ended with Morte staring at the monitor eyes frozen in a Technicolor mansard. And for the last time in the segment the camera focused on Michael Cole whom bid the viewers a final salutation before the credits began to roll. _

* * *

Mark was caught, plain and simple. Caught in those jewel tone eyes harder than diamonds, yet somehow nowhere near as intense as his own gaze was said to be, Mark couldn't help but to pull her deeper into the shelter of his embrace. `Abeebah's stare did not waver a millimeter, even as she felt eyes suddenly on them. She was tired of waiting for the brothers to open their mouths and say what the hell their problem was. The only thing that surprised the eldest horseman was that it was the elder of the two Calloways that had been 'skating on thin ice' with her.

Glen was supposed to be the emotional one, and yet here she was butting heads with the one man in the world who was closest to her in temperament. It no longer mattered that strictly speaking they were in a public place, that they could practically hear what those watching them must think. Abeebah had always been passive, letting any and every assault upon her person bounce off her steely exterior, or be stung by the frosty bite of her even chillier interior. The time for 'the usual' response had long since passed. And in almost desperation she reached deep inside herself for the answers.

And found the inferno that was her younger bond mate burning quietly in the shadows. Unconsciously the grip she had on Mark's jaw tightened, and the glaciers that shielded her eyes melting into something infinitely more dangerous to her red haired 'friend'. "I can't," his rumbling voice gave nothing away, clean and flat as primer paint. He ripped his gaze from hers despite the pain in his chin, and led her farther down the gravel path. 'So much like me, too much like me.' She thought in exasperation. "You won't," she corrected him, knowing the key difference between she and Mark lay in the fact she was a terrible liar both to others and herself and so usually didn't bother.

'Especially when I feel like a rat on a sinking ship,' she mused wryly. Eyes followed them as they meandered on, and the green eyed wrestler mused that they must look like far gone lovers, too absorbed in each other to notice what was going on around them. "What we have between us right now is good; I have no intentions of changing it." Abeebah informed him without preamble, "Whether it evolves or digresses, that's up to you." Mark froze, taking in what 'she did not say' but what his youngest bond mate was not so subtly, if not outright telling him, in the only way he would understand without Abeebah resorting to violence. 'I trust you.'

No more words were exchanged between the two 'not lovers' as they easily meandered their way through the park, taking in the various sights and sounds around them. Many people were out and about. Some guys played Frisbee in the grass with a dog, while others sat on blankets reading books, or like she and Mark, walked the pathways with no destination in mind. But then after what seemed like an eternity something did capture the deadman's eye. A mischievous smirk lifted the corners of his nearly colorless lips as he pulled at Abeebah's much smaller hand. "Come on," the eldest horseman went along without complaint.

There was no point in fighting if Mark was going to show this much life. Then she caught sight of the establishment that her bond mate was pulling her toward. And her face went completely blank, "it's a tattoo parlor." Her red haired 'friend' shot her a look that could dry an ocean, "I hadn't noticed." The brandy eyed beauty didn't even bother to roll her eyes, "you know what I mean. Don't you have enough of them as is?" She asked gazing pointedly at his massive tree like arms.

Mark snorted and abruptly pulled Abeebah's green clad curves into the shelter of his, and deliberately allowed his hands to roam over the exposed skin of her arms and back. Dark skin shuddered under his fingertips and he could experience the echoes of the feeling ghosting down his spine. Mark knew what his 'friend' was doing by allowing him to 'feel' the effect he was having on her, and basked in her minute show of trust. "Maybe I do." He used the drawling tone of voice that immediately set off warning bells in the front of her mind. 'Don't show fear, don't show fear, don't show- aww shit!'

* * *

By the time the sun had set Delia was still stunned at what had transpired in the morning. So flabbergasted in fact that she hadn't spoken the entire day, scaring her brothers, and those who knew her well enough to know she never shut up, half to death. Brandon and Evan had tried everything to get their light skinned sister to talk, nothing worked. She was even blank faced and tight lipped to her current lover, the younger Hardy. The three worried males hovered around her all day and all the way to the arena. None of them wondered where Abeebah was.

It wasn't even until they got to the arena the any of the horseman realized that there was a very noticeable lack of their' leader. And after calling the hotel and looking through the entire arena, going so far as to catch Kane alone and asking him, Brandon was a near panicked mess. He paced in the horseman's locker room with the Hardys and his younger brother watching him, and his younger sister staring off into space. All of them ignored the camera that had joined them some time ago. "He's going to worry himself sick if he keeps doing that," Matt observed. Evan didn't disagree, but still kept his silence.

His brother would worry regardless anything he said, and Delia was in no condition to slap some sense into their 'second in command'. And until Abeebah showed up, Evan seriously doubted that Brandon would listen to anyone. And as if somehow she heard her brothers' silent prayers, Abeebah came strolling into the locker room already dressed for battle. Her usually wild curls were pulled up and back into a single ponytail, with the black jaguar mask firmly settled over her dark visage. The eldest horseman's back up ring attire was messy as if she had been in a rush.

And yet his sister wasn't breathing hard, as if she'd had to scuttle at all, "where the hell- "How was your date?" The youngest Johns was cut off mid sentence by a no longer catatonic Delia. All eyes locked on her suddenly alert form, only to skitter right back to the newly arrived. Abeebah maneuvered herself carefully further into the locker room, dropping her gym bag by the open shelves that served as lockers. "Fine," quickly the rest of the horsemen tried to decipher what was expertly hidden under their sister's indifferent tone.

With the dark lady, fine could mean anything from a mind blowing experience, to a toilet worthy time. What made it so frustrating was the fact that either extreme was usually accompanied by the same flat tone. The three Johns wouldn't even bother questing her further were it any other event that she was describing. 'But this is big,' Brandon thought, his eyes suddenly widening to roughly match golf balls in diameter. "You never date," he sputtered out what anyone who dares to even 'claim' to know his older sibling knew.

The darkest horseman didn't even pause, taking a seat on the central bench. She shot a look at her brother that clearly stated what she thought about him talking about something so personal in front of a camera. Brandon shot her an equally pointed look, telling her without words that she didn't give a damn before if anyone knew, so then she shouldn't give a damn now. Their sister butted in abruptly at their silent exchange, "Ok, spill sister, I want the down and dirty." Deliberately Delia interjected herself between her two older siblings, causing Abeebah's eyes to suddenly become trained on her.

"Nothing to tell," she leaned to the side to see around her light skinned sibling, "you have a match in a couple minutes, Guerra I suggest you get to the guerrilla now." It was Jeff who noticed how measured Abeebah's every movement was every shift of that curvy torso progressed in careful increments. 'Not stiff, but definitely sore,' he thought trying to discern whether he should call attention to it or not. What made Morte so dangerous was the fact that you'd never see her coming; she gave no hint of intention until it was far too late for her target to figure it out.

Even now, with Viluppo, Lue, and Guerra trying to tease answers out of her, there was no way to tell if his girlfriend's older sister was really ticked or not. And as crazy as the younger Hardy was, he was far from stupid. Abeebah didn't have to threaten any of Guerra or Viluppo's bed partners, one look from Morte confirmed that the police would never find the body. "Nothing to tell my ass, anybody who could convince you go out with them deserves an award." Evan chorused with Delia.

Morte blinked slowly at her youngest siblings, probably baffled why they were pushing this topic. Jeff couldn't see why she was surprised. In all the time he knew her and all the stories that he heard of her, the darkest horseman never gave her attention to anyone. And there was only one person that Jeff could think of that could even come close. Before a sound could escape his parched throat, Morte's eyes were on him, glaring sub-zero spears into his head. But just as fast as she looked at Jeff, she was turning away.

"Don't be so dramatic." The darkest horseman said without a hint of censure. "I needed to get out and relax a little." Evan shot his eldest sibling a harassed look. Brandon and Delia looked like salivating predators that were closing in on wounded prey. And both the Hardy boys were sure that they could glimpse drool leaking from the lax jaws of the on looking camera men. But no one dared voice the chant that was echoing in their heads' 'Morte got a boyfriend,' it taunted them collectively with a tempting sing song rhythm.

Once again Abeebah attempted to get them to drop the subject by calling attention to the fact that Brandon had a match in the immediate future. And once again her siblings put more emphasis on the importance of her all too frigid heart being melted. The first apocalyptic rider snorted, "What gave you that impression?" This only caused them to be even more bull dogged in their search for answers. But she gave none, and soon it had degenerated down to the younger siblings trying to get a reaction out of her. That too was unsuccessful; as Abeebah's stone still silence was the only answer she would give.

* * *

Brandon finally left for his match, Abeebah accompanying the younger horseman to the ring because she didn't feel like dealing with Delia and Evan's speculating gaze. Even as they stepped out into the flashing lights of the arena, the second eldest horseman was preoccupied by his own speculations to really pay attention to the crowd. Thoughts of the possible suitors ran through his mind begging to be questioned out loud when Abeebah would most certainly give no answer. His deathly sister fought the urge to pop him with each step that they took.

Ken Shamrock was already in the ring, bouncing up and down on his toes, obviously impatient to fight Guerra for the first time in months. The second born horseman had defeated the ill-tempered MMA fighter before, but she still very much doubted that her brother would make it to the finals. The fact that he made it to the semi finals when other more experienced wrestlers could not was a source of mild delight in the reticent woman. 'Don't let your guard down though,' she warned herself and her brother silently, all too aware that their employer was still very much a threat in this situation.

Guerra glanced her way as if he could clearly hear the thought as if she said it out loud. Morte snorted under her mask only vaguely glancing at her brother before turning her attention to the ring that they were nearing. The war lord apocalyptic rider did the same. Shamrock watched Guerra approach as intently as the flashing strobes would allow. He knew that while the effect was meant as a scare tactic, it also served to wreak havoc on the opponents' equilibrium. For someone who was usually straight forward, Guerra was surprisingly sneaky.

'But when you think of whom his elder sister is,' he cast his dark gaze toward the horsemen's leader. He had no illusions of who was the more dangerous of the two. Like her younger brother, Morte was honest and simple with her words. But Ken, like many others recognized the brutality being held on a tight leash. The fact that she had yet to completely 'lose it' was very telling. The fact that she could still be one sadistically creative bitch while keeping her head was even more telling; this only reinforced the idea that he would have to watch his back while the ring. Just because Morte hadn't shown any interest in interfering in her siblings' matches before didn't mean she wouldn't now.

Stopping just a few feet away from the apron, the eldest horseman dined to place an encouraging hand on her brother's shoulder, before swiftly moving off to the barricades keeping overzealous fans at bay. Everyone was a little stunned by the minute show of support. For someone like Morte, a hand on the shoulder was like practically hugging them. But while the crowd went wild with the rare show of emotion from the eldest of the Apocalyptic riders, Guerra finally rolled under the ropes and into the ring. There was a match to win, 'I'll think about how weird Beebs is acting later.' He assured himself, tilting his back and to the side so that his neck would pop, releasing the final visages of stress in his spine.


	23. Champions

A/N: Hey all my loyal readers and reviewers sorry it took me so long to update, but I've been working on this chapter forever and decided that it was finally finished.

* * *

Kane watched the horseman locker room with silent frustration. He hadn't been able to get Evan alone and there was no way of getting close to Abeebah without being noticed by those unaware of their 'relationship'. The thought of using the link had already crossed his mind, but seeing as he feared Bearer catching him if there was so much as whisper of magic, that avenue was no longer available to him. Paul had been watching him lately, too closely for comfort.

This had been the closest the big red machine had ever gotten to his 'friend' and her siblings in weeks. And just as the frustration that he had been amassing for the past half hour was about to boil over into a temper tantrum, his query stepped out into the hall. The youngest horseman's usual swagger was gone, and in its place a leashed tension stiffened the normally loose limbed gate. Hurriedly the younger Calloway tried to think of something to get Evan's attention. And just as the light skinned boy was about to walk in the opposite direction of where Kane hid, the big red machine stepped out of the shadows, scrapping his hand against the wall.

The strange sound immediately captured the boy's attention. He instantly turned around, only to see one half of his eldest sister's current dilemma staring back at him. Then a wild thought occurred, 'could it have been Kane whom Abeebah went on a date with?' They certainly spent a lot of time together outside of the ring. Even more time than she did with Taker, and that was saying something. But just as soon as the thought arose, it withered away in a fiery death, when it occurred to him that though it was a secret amongst the two sets of siblings that the Calloways spent time with Abeebah, Abeebah herself would never keep it a secret from her younger siblings if she actually dating one of them.

She wouldn't hide who it was from Danea if she was caught going out. The darkest horseman wouldn't see the point in such a trivial thing. It was this certainty that caused Evan to dismiss the thought, "Hey Kane, what d'ya need?" The youngest horseman made sure to keep quiet, ever aware that cameras were still near. The big man grunted, jerking his head to the shadows from which he had moments ago emerged. Getting the message loud and clear, Evan followed Kane back to the darkness from whence he came.

The littlest horseman trusted that though the chrisom demon's temperament was unpredictable, he wouldn't attack without provocation. The hazel eyed boy cautioned himself mentally, knowing that the provocation could be any and everything with the mood Kane was likely in. The big red machine led him on a merry dance through the halls, leading him further and further from the locker room. By the time that they got to wherever it was that they were going, Evan was long passed caring anymore.

He was tired, he was confused, and he was pissed. The littlest horseman glared at his sister's 'friend' with all the irritation his strained facial muscles could muster. Kane paid him no heed as the big red machine retrieved a pen and small piece of paper left unattended by the backstage crew. The dark haired man then proceeded to write down the message that had been boiling in his brain for weeks, and handed it to Evan. Then backing away, Kane didn't stick around long enough to see the boy's flushed features become starkly white.

* * *

In the locker room, Delia and the Hardy boyz were speculating over the identity of Abeebah's new boyfriend. Jeff winced at the thought of the most likely option he was going with actually being the frigid lady's significant other. The fact that she was moving stiffly enough for him to notice didn't bode well for his peace of mind. The fact that she wasn't wearing her usual ring attire seemed even more suspect, had Delia not forgone her own horse motif attire. However the threat that had issued from the eldest horseman's gaze had been enough to shut his mouth earlier, but not his suspicions. And in the wake of Abeebah's departure, Jeff's conscious made a swiftly brutal arrival, causing his temples to throb.

The girls had a match tonight and they could both get seriously injured if either one of them went into it already hurt. But Jeff was far from a fool, he'd be lucky if Morte just killed him. And Abeebah wouldn't risk both herself and one of her siblings just to cover her own ass, even for this. Or at least that was what he kept telling himself, even as he watched the monitor from which the three of them watched Brandon's match. But it was damn near impossible to pay attention with Delia voicing her opinion to Matt, whom in a rare moment was in an unknowing agreement with him. "Come on it has to be Taker!" the artistic enigma fought back a wince. Delia gazed pointedly at the ceiling, "what is everyone's fixation with my sister dating Taker?"

Jeff fought back the urge to point out that if the stiffness in her posture was anything to go by 'dating' wasn't all they were doing."It makes sense," Matt argued even as he ticked off the reasons with his hand. "They spend an almost alarming amount of time together." "Taker is the first guy to really 'understand' my sister," Delia retorted. "They have protected each other on multiple occasions." She rolled her dark eyes, "And beaten each other to the ground just as many." "He touches her even when anyone else wouldn't dare."

"And yet no one can point out a situation where Taker touched her with anything more than a sign of a gentleman to a lady," she countered exasperatedly. "Taker isn't a gentleman." "But Morte is most certainly a lady," Delia's eyes dared Matt to contradict her. And they all knew that he couldn't, but he was going try another avenue anyway, "their similar." Again Delia rolled her eyes. "And that makes them compatible as a couple how?" That stopped Matt in his tracks, because she did have a point. His brother on the other hand had to bite his tongue in order to not sign his own death warrant.

Jeff was sure that he knew the eldest horseman's secret. And Morte knew that he knew, which meant that once her sister started confronting her about the Deadman, she would know Jeff ratted her out. And he seriously doubted she'd believe him if he told her Viluppo figured it out on her own. Which would equate to the police never finding his body, this didn't sit well the rainbow haired wonder at all. But not so surprisingly, neither did the prospect of his girlfriend's fruitless and probably unending speculations. The way Jeff saw it; he had a choice between a slow agonizing death, and a quick but equally painful end. 'Decisions, decisions, decisions,' he sighs.

* * *

Abeebah watched her brother from her place at ringside. Guerra was barely keeping up with his more experienced opponent, which wasn't all that surprising. This wasn't the type of fight that the Johns siblings were subjected to for most of their lives. And even though they had ample time to adapt, each of the four horsemen still had difficulty not going to 'any' lengths to win. Simply put, while Brandon was definitely the better fighter, Shamrock was the better wrestler which counted more because the second eldest Johns was fighting to win not to survive.

It didn't stop her from wincing as she watched a particularly nasty kick connected with her brother's side though. She could hear her brother groan as he used the leg that had just kicked him to fling Shamrock away, and knew that Brandon was going to have bruised ribs coming out of this match. But given the amount of punishment the hammer of the horseman could absorb, Morte had no doubt that Guerra still had a fair shot of winning. At least that was she thought until she heard the crowd suddenly go wild and turned to see Lue running down the ramp. The dark lady's eyes narrowed, honing in on the piece of paper clutched in her brother's hand.

The fact that he was here at all meant trouble. She did not want to contemplate whatever news her youngest brother had to carry instead of memorizing it. 'Leave no physical evidence,' another hard learned lesson from their illustrious past. Quickly moving to intercept Lue, Morte didn't see Mankind Maguire wading through the crowd. Didn't know of Brandon's sudden abandonment of his fight against Shamrock, and didn't hear his sudden shout of warning over the roaring of the crowd. It was only an instant, but that moment of distraction was all Mankind needed to jump over the barricade, and attack Morte from behind.

"Thunk!!!" The piece of PVC pipe that the psychotic man had been carrying connected painfully with the back of Morte's head, launching her forward and onto the unprotected concrete. An almighty roar filled the arena with the indignant yells of spectators. And even as they were rushing from the horseman's locker room Jeff, Matt, and Viluppo cursed themselves for not seeing this retaliation coming. The eldest horseman didn't even have enough time to gasp as her masked face made bone jarring contact with the floor, vision blurring as a small goose egg began to form at the base of her skull. She did not get up.

Lue screamed, running even faster as the paper in his hand slipped away from his grasp. Guerra jumped over the top rope tackling Mankind to the mat before he could escape. Wrapping his meaty hands around Mankind's throat, Brandon began to squeeze. His sister's attacker tried to fight back, to no avail as Guerra's grip was solid and steady, and determined to slowly constrict the air flow to his lungs. Suddenly the pyros on the ramp went off, the lights abruptly dropping into an eerie red glow. Both of the male horsemen cursed, one abandoning his pursuit of making Mankind pay, the other hastening to get his sister up so that they could get out of harm's way.

Kane came out, his gate unhurried even as Paul yelled after the three horsemen from his side. The big red machine was in no rush to help his hapless quasi partner. In fact the big man deliberately slowed his pace, hoping to give Evan and Brandon a chance to get their incapacitated sister out of there. And they did so, Evan kicking Mankind in the nuts, while his older brother easily hefted Abeebah up against his bulky frame, and quickly making his way to the barricade in order to avoid Kane completely. Paul continued to holler, and had the lights not the porky man's completion, than the younger Calloway was sure it would be ruddy with malice.

Evan followed after his older brother over the barricade and through the crowd, keeping a wary eye on Kane whom was slowly making his way to the ring, all but ignoring his downed cohort. And everyone save for the youngest Johns were confused when the big red machine made no move to pursue them. The smallest horseman didn't know whether to be grateful for the behemoth's minimal assistance or enraged at his part in the attack in the first place. He supposed that at this point it didn't really matter, because either way they were getting out of there. Evan prayed silently for his eldest sister's wellbeing because Viluppo was at risk too if she wasn't.

* * *

In his dressing room, Taker stood nearly keeled over from the sudden and brutal blurring at the edges of his vision. Unable to stop himself, the elder Calloway shouted out through the mental bond tying him and his brother to Morte. 'What the hell?!!' And wasn't in the least bit surprised when only the throbbing at the base of his skull answered him, Kane hadn't bothered "talking" to him in months, and Abeebah was obviously in too much pain to manage it. Forcibly straightening his spine the deadman breathed in deeply, hoping to get himself under enough control to not go looking for his younger bond mate, thus further implicating their 'relationship' to the already suspicious masses.

McMahon was gunning for both of them. He didn't need any more ammunition. Exhaling, Taker once again tried to brush his awareness against his young friends in the hopes of finding out what the hell was going on without having to call attention to himself by showing concern. His futile attempt was once again answered by a near blinding headache. Foul curses filled the once still air as the red haired Calloway fought against the urge to vomit.

Forcing himself to once more take up a mask of stoicism, Taker surveyed his appearance through a mirror in the corner, before heading out of his dressing room. He hoped that there was someone nearby that knew what was going on. It didn't take long for the thunderous whispers to reach his ears, correlating into an endless amount of speculations and rumors. And from this furious stream of unedited chatter, Taker was able to deduct the most likely scenario as to why Abeebah could only focus on whatever pain she was experiencing.

And it was all he could do not to be overcome by the sea of rage pumping a livid acidic path through every blood vessel coursing through his body. Brandon's match had been a set up. Vince had known Morte would be paranoid enough to accompany her 'little' brother to the ring. The multimillionaire had been counting on it. The end result equated in Mankind had attacking her with a pipe, and apparently knocking Abeebah's lights out. Kane had done nothing. This was not unexpected though no less enraging to the incensed Phenom.

But for the sake of his bond mate Mark inhaled deep calming breathes, lest he add to what was probably shaping up to be the mother of all headaches. Deliberately lengthening his stride, Taker made his way to the horseman's dressing room, and wasn't surprised in the least when none of them were there. The thought of waiting didn't appeal to the red haired Calloway, but he would if it meant he could be with his 'friend' without suspicion. But that didn't make being alone with his darkening thoughts any easier. And it steadily got worse the longer Abeebah wasn't there to metaphysically drag his mind kicking and screaming back to the light of day.

* * *

Brandon's mind worked a mile a minute as he carried his older sister through the dim halls of the arena. Wandering with no clear destination, both he and Evan quietly chauffeured Abeebah along. They needed a viable plan and they needed it now! Delia and the Hardys were probably searching for them, but there was no way that the three horsemen could show up at the temporary trainers office while Brandon wasn't a hundred percent sure it wasn't another trap. They couldn't go back to their locker room for the same reason. Forcefully the second eldest Johns turned his thoughts away from what that could mean for his younger sister's further wellbeing.

He glanced over at his only younger brother, "Ev, go to the trainers and get some help would you?" And for a moment the littlest Johns stared at him in pure defiance. "And where do you think you'll you be going?" he spat out agitatedly. It was all the golden skinned young man could do not to give into his own anger and fear. "To find an empty locker room," he said very carefully measuring his tone to avoid all the churning emotions clawing at his gut. He shot Evan a half pleading glare before the willow thin boy could even think to protest. "Just go, this is neither the right time nor place for this shit." Oh how Lue would have loved nothing more than continuing arguing but he knew Brandon was right.

One of them had to keep watch over Abeebah while the other got medical help. As Evan couldn't protect both himself and their elder sister, Brandon obviously opted for the most viable choice. It was a wonder that he would even let Evan out of his sight anyway, after the stunt Mankind pulled. Yet the hammer of the horseman trusted him to be able to look after himself, even under the pressure of an all too real threat. And though the ginger eyed boy capitulated in the face of that very fact, he couldn't leave without a purely biting parting shot. "Fine, but there will be a 'right time' and 'right place', and then we'll be having some right words." The elder of the two boys didn't even bother to fight the urge to turn his eyes heavenward.

Picking up a piece of gravel Brandon informed his youngest sibling that he would mark the door that he and Abeebah would be in. Nodding, Evan silently promised to get help and find Delia before they both went their separate ways. The brawny apocalyptic rider quickly and quietly carried his sister deeper into the bawls of their current venue. Following the convenient maps that indicated the larger and probably abandoned storerooms, he went there in hopes that no one hostile would come looking. And the entire trip there his sister did not stir; only causing the ravenous fear eating at his stomach lining to become all the more gut wrenching.

It wasn't until sometime later when Brandon was finally able to settle his elder sibling down on a rickety metal table that the oldest horseman began to rouse. Carefully stepping out of striking distance, Guerra watched in partial relief as Morte awakened with a pained hiss. She immediately rolled onto her side, curling up into a tight ball, knees tight into her chest, and arms wrapping protectively around her masked skull. He nearly choked on his rage at the rare sight of her vulnerability, a sight that he had been seeing a lot more of lately, and for all the wrong reasons.

"What happened?" Abeebah's voice was a rasping whisper away from being too quiet to hear. And for a moment the brawny young man froze, unable to think passed the rage that swelled in his gut. Mankind's earlier actions throbbed behind his suddenly closed eyelids, along with the frenzied terror of watching Abeebah being dropped. 'Breathe,' he commanded himself forcibly aware that headache or not, his sister would become violent at his continued silence. Brandon cleared his throat uncomfortably aware of the bile that wanted to make a compulsory exit.

"Foley," was the only thing the younger wrestler was willing and able to choke out. And since her head was currently feeling as if it were vibrating, the answer he gave was enough for the eldest horseman, "medic?" "Evan is getting one now." They fell silent, both unable to really say anything beyond what was already said. Brandon wanted to say more, and knew he had to say more, even if only to further assess his sister's state without actually touching her. But he was quickly finding impossible to do so.

As for Abeebah, a thousand thoughts buzzed precariously through her aching head but she was unable to hold onto to them, let alone focus beyond the ringing in her ears. Trembling fingers fumbled with the leather straps holding her mask in place, until the sturdy pieces of leather finally gave way, and released. Inhaling the stale air, the dark Philadelphian nearly choked on the amount of dust that coated the table her eldest younger brother put her upon. This time Brandon didn't hesitate to help his dark eyed sister into the sitting position.

"How bad is it?" he asked, carefully supported her shoulders as he sat behind Abeebah so that his bulk further stabilized her. She coughed, "on a scale of one to ten?" "Pissed," Brandon turned slightly his grip becoming more firm as he glared at the sudden intrusion. Delia came strutting through the door, Matt and a medic not far behind her. And Brandon's gaze zeroed in on the chaotic horseman's busted lip. "What happened, where's Evan?" Not batting an eye at her sibling's abrupt demand, Delia rummaged around in the nearby junk pile to find something to sit on while the medic began to tend their sister.

Abeebah was too out of it to do more than flinch. "McMahon's cronies tried to get the jump on us while we were headed for the trainers." Matt explained as he took his place leaning on the wall next to the door. "Evan is with Jeff," Delia continued before either of her siblings could inquire of his whereabouts again, "he's fine." Abeebah's blunted nails dug in her palm as she idly listened to the medic's tottering over the condition of the knot swelling at the base of her skull. "Then why isn't he here," Abeebah retorted.

Delia's hickory hued orbs swiftly evaded the honeyed glare that was surely directed her way. And instead skittered to the set of green eyes of her older brother, determination intermingled with terror as their gazes met, and the truth became apparent to Brandon by way of knowing that his younger sister had a death wish. He had to strangle the sound that wanted to escape his already strained esophagus. Abeebah would do something even more stupid if she even got a hint as to what their wayward brother was doing.

* * *

Taker stood stoically backstage, his gaze intent, but in truth his focus was split. Neither Abeebah, nor her siblings had returned to their locker room and his match was fast approaching. The fact that they didn't return could mean anything or nothing at all, but the big man absolutely couldn't go into this match up distracted. It was really simple; he just had to find out what was going on. However time wasn't on the red haired man's side, and he was just moments away from entering battle with some might say was his ultimate rival.

And yet after fruitlessly waiting for any of the Johns siblings to return, there was still hid nor hair of any of them. The Deadman had cut it close getting to the Gorilla, dragging his feet in hopes to get the even tinniest of clue where his youngest bond mate was. All he got was an earful of speculations from those whom the demon of Death Valley passed by, and a new appreciation for Abeebah's ability to be patient.

Now he stood, still as a slab of marble stone, frigid temper on the cutting edge. All flinched from the Undertaker's presence, as if struck, even as they rushed to cue his entrance music. "Taker!" the world all but froze under the big man's feet as he slowly turned to see Abeebah's slender brother rush toward him. The boy was a mass of assorted bruises and an ugly scowl. His 'ring attire' was in utter disarray and his eyes filled with black rage. Worst of all Deadman didn't know whether to be worried or relieved that the littlest Johns wasn't alone.

The red haired Texan vaguely recognized Delia's rainbow haired boyfriend. And he too was a little worse for wear. Ignoring this, Mark turned his attention back to Evan, "where is she?" "Getting looked after by a medic," the sharp look that the petite boy sent his way prevented the elder Calloway from pushing for more answers. There were too many other people around for Abeebah's location to be kept a secret. Just as swiftly as the stern look was there on Evan's face, it was gone, leaving an exhausted sort of worry in its place. "She got knocked in the head pretty good." He informed the wrestler.

Mark grunted, trying to seem unconcerned even though the worry and suddenly reawakened rage ate at the pit of his stomach. "Will she ready for her match?" Everyone else might be fooled by the Deadman's act but Evan wasn't. He knew, much like his sister Undertaker wouldn't ask if he didn't care. And his tacit way of inquiring after Abeebah worked to their advantage, so Evan didn't feel in the least bit guilty indulging him. "Ready? By the time she gets up, Morte is going to be royally pissed." A twitching half smile, half scowl was his only answer to this, and it was the only one he needed as his sister's friend turned to make his signature entrance.

* * *

"_It is a perverse diabolical structure," JR spoke in disgusted awe as Mr. McMahon's newest creation was lowered over the ring. King sat next to him, in just as much appalled awe as he, "satanic, hellish."They had all know this was coming for weeks now, but there was no stopping the shock, horror, and even bloodlust that seemed to suffocate the already adrenaline latent air. "It is custom built for injury," the Oklahoma cowboy proclaimed, trying to impress upon the audience the severity as to what was about to happen._

_He had a sinking suspicion that they were paying his words no heed as Mankind began his entrance. The masked man made his way down the aisle, his lumbering gate not in the least bit hampered by the steel chair he had brought to the match. Twitchingly the bipolar inclined wrestler walked around the unforgiving cage, inspecting the prison that he was to be locked in along with whom many considered to be his most deadly adversary. The already hardcore legend paid no mind to the roaring crowd as he tossed his chosen weapon up onto the top of the cell, ignored King and JR predictions of hospitals or lack therefore of, and didn't give a wit as he began to climb the chain link beast before him._

"_What is he doing, you're supposed to start inside the cage you moron." The former wrestler turned announcer called out over the thunderous crowd. And suddenly the arena was plunged into darkness, tooling bells heralding a sudden coldness that could only mean one thing. "And suddenly there is a chill in the igloo, heralding the arrival of one man, the Phenom of the WWF, the Undertaker." JR announced to the now frantic enthusiasts, becoming enthralled with the mood change. The bells abruptly gave way to the wailing of an electrical guitar. _

_Ambient purple light lit, revealing the red haired wrestler to the screaming fans and spectators. Stern faced and hard hearted the Undertaker made his way to the ring, pyros going off as he walked, as if to punctuate the rage that he held in single-minded control. However it didn't stop either of the senior announcers from speculating on his current state of mind. Stopping just a few feet short of the cell, Taker shed his long sleeveless robe. And then without taking his eyes off of his adversary, the Deadman climbed the cage with a speed belying his great bulk. _

_But he wasn't fast enough to avoid getting hit in head with a chair. Undertaker held on for dear life, as steel connected with bone, once, twice, three times, before he was able to make it on top of the cell. And still Mick Foley didn't relent in his attack, using the chair again and again before the behemoth that he was facing was able to knock it out of his grasp. Now they exchanged blows, both unable to get a clear advantage with their footing precarious at best. Using the mandible claw Foley took full control of the match. _

_And only Mankind was even crazy enough to try a piledriver on top of the cell, yet was thankfully countered, as Taker used Mankind's momentum to send the glutton for punishment toppling up and over the Phenom's back. The cell shook but held, and they were at it again, not in the least bit acknowledging the world around them. This stopped being about a match a long time ago; this was all out war. Neither gave a damn about winning, it was all about who could do the most damage to the other._

_By the time they made it to the side where the announcers' tables were Undertaker's foot had already punched a hole through the chain link material that covered the entire structure. And his opponent's mask was torn from his face, weathered by years of abuse. The green eyed Calloway discarded the multi strapped piece of leather without a care. Foley tried to put some distance between them, using the crossbeams for support as he moved around. But Taker would have none of it, reaching out as far as he dares to once again attack his rival. _

_Yet Foley is far from helpless and strikes back viciously with stinging shots as they tried to navigate around the cells exterior. Stumbling neither of them were able to get solid footing on the steel contraption. Head butting Mankind, Taker grasped at the lapels of Mankind's white shirt. Mankind in turn grabbed at Taker's black top, both fighting with all they had to get the upper hand. But as they teetered dangerously close to destruction, it was the Undertaker whom seized the moment and threw Foley over the edge. Time seemed to slow as the world watched Mankind fall, from the top of the cage through the Spanish announce table down to the concrete floor that waited below. _

"_WITH GOD AS MY WITNESS, MANKIND IS BROKEN IN HALF!" Just as suddenly time resumed its normal course, with King and JR calling for the medics and the audience launched into a frenzied shock, and Undertaker standing alone looking down on the man he just might have paralyzed for life. EMT's rushed out of the gorilla with a gurney in tow. Vince followed them, instructing stage hands to have the cell raised so that the medics could get through. _

_And suddenly Undertaker found himself being raised fifteen feet in the air along with the metallic beast beneath his feet. McMahon, along with the emergency medical team and Terry Funk quickly made their way to Foley, just barely managed to roll on his side. The EMT's slide the heavily injured man onto the gurney and began to push it away. McMahon signaled for the cell to be lowered so that the Undertaker could get down and as Vince's latest brain child began to make's its descent, Taker began to climb down its side, dropping to the concrete when it got close enough to the floor. "Well folks, that's the end of this match, wait. What the hell is Mick doing?!!" _

_And sure enough the brunette was fighting his way past medics, Vince, and his friend and sometimes tag partner to get back to the cell. Taker was both impressed and pleased, so much so that he once again mounted the chain link fence incasing the ring in order to get to the top of the cell. Mankind wasn't far behind; face a bloody mess and stride quite crocked. Taker took one look at the older wrestler and came to a decision. Hoisting himself up once more, the Deadman began to scale the cell. They would finish this match. _

* * *

Backstage Kane was barely able to fend off the headache currently splitting his skull in two. He had hardly been able to sneak away from Paul as his 'partner's match had begun. So the big man thanked whatever deity that was listening when Mankind was thrown off of the cell, distracting Bearer just long enough to slip into the shadows. The big red machine knew he was going to pay for his disappearing act later. However the ache currently pounding between his eyes would not be denied. And there was no way he would let Paul catch on to what was happening to him.

The younger Calloway always suspected that his father's old assistant had something to do with the dissolving of him and his brother's bond all those years ago. And despite the lack of evidence, there was no other explanation for it. Taker's old 'mentor' knew of he and his brother's talents, though neither of them ever uttered a word about their' connection to anyone for most of their lives. In fact Abeebah and her siblings were the first to ever be informed of it.

But Bearer never gave any clear sign whether he was truly aware of their bond or not. There were hints here and there when both of the Calloway brothers were still in their parents' care, looks that he would give them if they were to communicate silently in his presence. However the fat bastard certainly gave no indication now, whether he knew of his and Taker's bond with the eldest horseman. And Glen had no intention of revealing it to him either way.

Abeebah was in enough danger with the former mortician merely trying to get her out of his way. Mismatched eyes closed involuntarily remembering the raw frigid touch of his younger bond mate's power, a power that has never been tapped into beyond the emotional level, a power frightening in its solidarity. That very same power Abeebah had no intention of ever using would be more than a little appealing to Bearer. A quaking shudder racked through his large frame at the very thought of Bearer's full attention being placed upon his 'friend'.

Slightly disoriented, the big man's gaze snapped open. Kane flexed his hands trying to restore feeling in his suddenly stiff digits. He moved, slowly making his way to the sink located in the corner of the bathroom he was currently hiding in. Each step brought on a bout of nausea that the dark haired young man had to contend with, and he absently wondered which of his bond mates were currently suffering this particular head trauma. Using his hands as support, Kane leaned over the white porcelain bowl, breathing in as deeply as his mask would allow.

It was a battle of its own just to force his double vision to once again come into focus, but Glen was mutinously stubborn and doubly determined. Whatever happened, tonight he would become the world wrestling federation champion. Finally looking at himself in the mirror, Kane couldn't help the snort that issued from his damaged throat. The sound was raw, cracked, and painful, but he couldn't help himself. Even with the mask covering his entire face his eyes told the entire story which his 'security blanket' would never be able to hide. At this rate he'd be lucky to survive against the rattlesnake, let alone win the match.

* * *

Vince couldn't say that he was displeased as he and his entourage returned to the skybox to watch the remainder of the freshly invented hell in the cell match. The audience was definitely in awe at the spectacle arranged for them. Both the Undertaker and Mankind were taking full advantage of the 'no rules' part of this particular match to its full gory potential. Tacks, wire, stairs, chairs, and the cell itself were used as horrifically efficient weapons by both competitors. And it seemed that neither was willing to be outdone by the other, both reaching for new heights in brutality. But from the look of things it wouldn't last for much longer.

Mick Foley was a bloody mess, and Undertaker was definitely more pale than usual, with tacks sticking into his flesh through his wrestling attire. Snapping his fingers, Vince didn't even bother to look at the assistant that he had summoned. "Find the horsemen, and headbangers, their match is next." "Sir?" The business tycoon finally glanced up at the poor employee, dark eyes glaring with deadly promise, "I will not repeat myself, go." Hastily the unfortunate man went to do as his employer said, fearing that if he didn't move faster his job would be forfeit.

The assistant hurried backstage, but it didn't take long to find the headbangers and deliver the message that he was assigned. However finding the horsemen was a completely different story. It was as if they completely disappeared. No one had seen neither hide nor hair of any of them, at least not since Lue last spoke to Taker, most likely on his fallen sister's behalf. It would surprise anyone if they had all left, considering the four siblings had been attacked multiple times tonight.

But Vince wasn't in a merciful mood, and the manipulative boss was most likely going to fire him if he failed in this task, so he kept looking. It wasn't until he passed by a trainer heading back to the temporary office that the assistant was able to find them. It turns out the other man had been treating the eldest. And the assistant was somewhat pleased to find out that that both Viluppo and Morte though a little worse for wear from their respective ambushes, were still considered healthy enough to fight.

The assistant didn't want to think about how he was going to have to explain the situation had both of the horsemen been too injured to fight. 'Though he probably shouldn't have to considering the asshole was the one who set up the traps to take them out.' He thought with just a hint of censure. Following the trainer's instructions the irritated man did find where the four siblings were hiding out and delivered his message before leaving just as quickly. He didn't want to stick around for the explosion that would surely occur.

* * *

Abeebah, Brandon, Delia, and Evan stared blankly at the door that that one of Vince's flunky's exited out of. Shocked rage curdled abruptly in the pit of the third eldest horseman's stomach. She tried to rein it in, hold on to it, save it for the match that she and her sister were obviously were still going to be participating in. But the sudden throbbing pulsing behind her eyeballs would not be denied. Well aware of what was about to happen, her brothers moved away from her, Brandon taking hold of Abeebah's arm so that he could pull her into the corner with them.

Delia flew into a rage, dark brown eyes turning nearly black with fury as she proceeded to throw any and everything in her path. Pretty soon foul curses and screams of frustration accompanied smashed tables, and overthrown chairs. And the Johns brothers were content to let Delia take out her anger on the room, Abeebah on the other hand was not. "Stop her." Both Brandon and Evan looked at their eldest sister as if she lost her mind. Irritable cat like eyes stared glaciers at them, "Viluppo will tire herself out."

The emphasis that Abeebah placed on their youngest sister's ring name wasn't lost on either of them. "What do you expect us to do?" Evan's face became red with equal parts of irritation and horror at being included, but just as the protest welled up in his throat, Abeebah's quiet command cut him off, "stop her." There was no room for argument in her tone, and neither Evan nor Brandon dared to do so, despite her current condition. Grumbling they both got up, uneasily edging around the mayhem that was Delia's temper.

Brandon placed himself in front of the line of fire, knowing that if worst came to worst he could take the beating. Evan flanked him on the chaotic apocalyptic rider's blind side. Trepidation clouded the elder Johns features but his voice was firm as he called out to his younger sister, "Delia." "What?" the caramel skinned young woman growled back, almost savagely. Brandon fought the urge to tell her to calm down. That was the worst thing he could say in Delia's current mood, but it made the struggle to come up with an alternative all the harder.

"You have a match." "And you think I don't remember?" The willowy wrestler fisted her hands, nails digging viciously into her palms. Brandon couldn't stop himself, "from the way you're acting, not a chance in hell." He knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment he opened his mouth but he regretted it even more as Delia took a menacing step forward. "Stop it," once again Abeebah's quiet command cut through the air, this time her focus solely directed at their light skinned sister. "We have a match, so shelve the fucking attitude till we get to the ring."

Velvety dark eyes glared hotly at their bronze counterparts, with every intention of retaliating. Only to be stopped short by the sheer weight of the negative vibes being bounced of the chilling calm that was Abeebah. None of them had any doubt that their sister's glare could have bent steel. Brandon shot his elder sister a look that clearly asked her why she didn't just do that in the first place. A look that she deliberately ignored as she got up went to retrieve her mask, and then headed for the door.

Her siblings were slow to follow, but follow they did. Making sure to keep well ahead of them, Morte dawned her mask once more, with a quiet hiss of discomfort. Her head still throbbed painfully, and she felt inexplicably sore. All Abeebah wanted to do was to go back to the hotel that the event planners had booked, and lay down. But the darkest horsemen stiffened her spine, and ignored the twinges sending little white flashes across her field of vision.

* * *

The beating was finally over. Terry Funk aka Chainsaw Charlie breathed a little easier as he helped his friend to lay down on the waiting gurney. He had known that there was no way that Mick would win when his former protégé took a dive through the chain link fence at the top of the cell. As much damage that Foley could absorb, there was only so much the human body could take. The blond haired senior wrestler was surprised that he was even able to move after the shove into the Spanish announce table.

Glancing over his shoulder, the former ECW veteran gazed upon the victorious Undertaker, just standing in the middle of the ring. It was obvious that the Deadman was in much better shape than his friend and sometimes rival. He could barely see the abrasions littering his bland skin, and strained cast of pale features in the darkened arena. The Phenom had definitely been in a more vicious mood tonight, and Terry wondered. What the hell had Mankind been thinking?

Mark watched his opponent be rolled away on the stretcher, with more satisfaction than he'd admit to anyone. The hell in the cell match was almost therapeutic in its violence, and was quickly becoming the red head's favorite. But suddenly stinging cuts made themselves known along with the telltale pincushion feeling alighting his shoulders and backside painfully. Taker fought down a grimace. There was no doubt that he would be having a rather embarrassing trip to the hospital, and didn't relish at the idea of having tacks pulled out of his ass. Then something else occurred to the near seven footer, he was going to have to drive himself there.

Clenching his teeth, Mark swallowed the myriad of curses that wanted to spew forth from his lips. Even now, amidst the field of bloodied victory the Undertaker had an image to uphold. Subtly the wrestler straightened his stance and began to make his own exit. And he was never more grateful for the slow pace of his entrance. Because walking with tacks stuck in his butt was such a painful process, Mark took his time, going tediously slow as the tacks and shards of glass dug painfully into his flesh through his attire.

Walking up the ramp became an agonizing challenge; as the slope made it easier for the sharp objects clinging to him dig all the more deeply. He managed to make it backstage, but by the time he got there the Gorilla was curiously full. Mosh and Thrasher stood across from the horsemen smirking for all they were worth, while Delia, Evan, Brandon, and Abeebah glared at the two idiots. The stagehands milled around them, not paying any attention to the silent confrontation. But it wasn't this that caught the Deadman's attention. Standing out like a sore thumb, a gray eyed woman looked at him directly in the eye, her angular face severe in its blandness. Mark knew this woman, "Jodie."


	24. Haunting You Haunting Me

**A/N: Hey everybody, sorry I haven't posted in so long. But here's a chapter meant as a christmas present just for my readers and reveiwers. Its a long one so prepare for a lot of content. -Rei**

Mark shouldn't have been surprised to see her, but he is. In fact he should have expected her years ago. Frozen and unable to move the red haired demon of Death Valley stared without compunction. Jodie looked more weathered than he could ever remember her being. The once curvy figure of his 'high school' sweetheart was now nearly thin as a twig, bones almost jutting out painfully under taunt skin. Her black curly hair was pulled back and away from her face, pale features which were even more aged in the harsh light of fluorescents. Long almost spidery finger wrung at long blue sleeves, a nervous gesture he never thought he ever see from her.

The woman regarding him now was a far cry from the fierce fille he left behind in New Orleans nearly ten years ago. And looking at her now, it was all he could do not to run to her, hold her, and never let go again. Lips, chapped and cracked, suddenly thinned with agitation. He had left Jodie; he had wanted to leave her. So why was he suddenly feeling as if the earth was swallowing him whole and she was its center? It was better for the both of them that he had gone, with Bearer back then, he wasn't what she needed, and she couldn't handle the secrets and drama that made Mark who he was.

But just as the plants gravitate toward the life giving sun, Mark's guilt tugged heavily at his heart, he moved. Unmindful of the terrified stage hands around him, Taker approached his once girlfriend. They probably thought the woman was just another ring rat anyway, and those who didn't, didn't have the mind or the stones to ask. Mark could feel Abeebah's questing orbs on him, but the Deadman avoided her gaze at all cost. Putting his focus back entirely on Jodie he fought himself over what to say as soon as he reached arm's length. Jodie beat him to the punch, "we need to talk."

* * *

The eldest horseman watched her elder bond mate go, with awful feeling rolling in her gut. She knew that whatever it was that was going on with Taker was none of her business, but it didn't stop the sick feeling she got watching him with the other woman. 'I am not jealous,' she told herself firmly. And why would she be? Abeebah had seen Mark occasionally leave with different pieces of tail before, and hadn't felt a thing, save the red haired man's lust for said piece of tail. Yet something about this woman was setting off instincts Abeebah never knew she had.

And making matters worse the darkest horseman was finding it near impossible to make any sense of what Taker was feeling, let alone being able to disentangle it from her own. 'What was that damn rolling in her stomach' Abeebah wondered furiously. And couldn't help that she felt all the more helpless because she didn't have a clue as to what she was experiencing. 'Get your head back in the game Morte,' forcefully shaking her cranium the dark woman turned her attention back to the verbal sparring occurring between her siblings and the headbangers.

Amusement shoved aside the confused bundle of emotions that her elder bond mate had evoked. Insults flew fast and furiously back and forth between the three horsemen and the headbangers. The eldest horseman took note of the lewd innuendo Mosh sent her way, along with her youngest brother's scathing retort in her defense. Yet with each exchange the epithets grew more venomous and colorful. So much so, that for a moment Abeebah honestly considered joining in, it would be a great distraction from where her mind seemed to want to forcefully bend.

The look Mark gave his current 'guest' flashed across her psyche. Suddenly plunged back into a crappy mood, Abeebah glared at her and Delia's opponents. Thrasher and Mosh's laughter became nervous. Morte never glared, never. McMahon could have cut her pay in half, and Morte would never lose her cool, and yet now her eye held their death sentence. They backed away, calling for their entrance to be cued. Not bothering to say a word, Abeebah pointed to Delia, then to the curtain which their rivals were exiting through. The chaotic horseman visibly gulped.

Then nodding, the willowy young woman moved to have the stage hands to cue up her own entrance. The eldest horseman turned her glare on her younger brothers, "stay here." Despite her obvious foul mood, both Evan and Brandon were ready and willing to argue. "You are out of your mind." "They're going to cheat." "McMahon's still a threat." An upraised finger was their only warning, a warning they took to heart, with jaws automatically snapping shut. "I know, I don't care, and feel free to join us when the shit hits the fan."

Short, concise, and borderline belligerent seemed to be the name of the game tonight. Abeebah was obviously not of a pleasant temperament, and was intent on taking it out on anyone who provoked her. The temper wasn't unexpected, though no less threatening in its indiscriminate nature. Knowing this, both Morte's brothers still wanted to quarrel, as nothing good could come of their amber eyed sister's current state. But there was no way that either of them could win an all out argument with her. Not when she was annoyed to the point of ignoring common sense.

* * *

_Viluppo came strutting out to the ramp, her head bobbing along to the music, the words of her theme sounding being belted out by the spectators. Long brown curled locks were pulled back revealing the third horseman's marred visage. The most vicious diva ever to enter the ring looked stunning in a black sports bra and matching booty shorts. Fingerless gloves adorned small hands, along with heavy elbow and knee pads, and knee high command boots. Yet the horse theme that was usually prevalent on all of the apocalyptic riders was curiously absent in her attire. Both JR and Lawler speculated on the change in apparel, curious as everyone else as to why she wasn't wearing what she usually did. _

_Stopping just a few scant feet away from the ring Viluppo continued to vibe along with the blaring music. She, like everyone else in the arena was anxiously waiting for Morte. Hands crossed behind her back, with feet firmly planted shoulder width apart, the third born horseman did her best to focus on this instant, rather what had already past, and what would hopefully be. Namely, Vince being a bloody smear under a pile of dog shit. The raucous taunts being flung her way from the ring meant nothing and the unimaginable suffering that she, and her dispassionate sister were about to inflict meant everything. Morte wasn't a violent person, despite her aptitude for violence. She'd always go the quickest way to win a fight rather than the most 'fun'._

_Viluppo never won a bout of any kind against her, and more often than not, why the light skinned wrestler always tried to annoy her sister into losing control. It was a testament to Abeebah's frigid heart that she never did. A smile nearly spilt the second youngest horseman's face, thinking about the last few months, and the shift in her sister's behavior. As detached as Abeebah might still be, she had finally learned 'to feel', she laughed, she got mad, she even learned to live beyond the scope of getting through the day._

_As the 'igloo' suddenly plunged into darkness, the chaotic horseman's smile got wider. She could all but feel the biting frost flood into the immediate area, sending anticipatory chills down Viluppo's spine. She watched, with almost clinical interest as the headbangers backed away from the ropes facing her. And wondered at her sister's seemingly new ability to strike fear into the hearts those facing against her. Abeebah had always creped people out, her siblings included, but it wasn't until the Johns siblings came to the WWF that Morte began to be feared._

_The boom of the Chellos that marked Morte's coming abruptly signaled icy lights to illuminate the arena. Viluppo didn't look back already knowing what she'd see. Morte stood at the top of the ramp, loose limbed and ready for a beat down. Like her younger sister the darkest horseman had forsaken her horse motif attire, and instead wore full body tights, with a mini tee-shirt over top of it, and a pair of knee high boots. She still wore her iconic Jaguar mask, yet her hair was free, a river of dark hair spilling around her masked face and shoulders. _

_And for some unexplainable reason this only made Morte appear more dangerous, as no one could see the steel trap that were the eldest horseman's eyes through the fringe of raw chocolate curls. Her approach was slow and methodical. But her temper was well into its shattering point, making for an interesting dynamic on how she would be able to still fight without being consumed by the fury slicing through her resolve. Everyone knew of the attacks upon all the horsemen, and they all wondered, how this will affect Morte's judgment in this match? _

* * *

She gazed at him, concrete eyes studious on both his features and physique. This was nothing new, but somehow it still made him uncomfortable. Idly Mark wondered if Abeebah's easy acceptance had left him mildly spoiled. Or had it made him more sensitive to the harsh world outside of their trinity? Mark didn't know and he supposed that it didn't matter. This wasn't his younger bond mate, and as observant Jodie was, he seriously doubted she would notice.

But she did, or more accurately she noticed there was something different about her once lover, 'besides being older?' The Cajun wanted to snort. They were both ancient when they met the first time almost fourteen years ago. Both of them were aged beyond their years by experiences, which led to them mistaking their attraction for each other for love. She recalled with only a slight bit of morose wistfulness that they had made so many mistakes together.

'One of which I'll never regret,' she thought now that time had taken the sting out of the bitterness she once felt toward the man now standing before her. Once a boy that she thought she loved, but now a man that she didn't even know, Jodie could only hope that boy still existed in this man. "Gunner's sick." Mark froze, 'don't breathe, don't you dare fucking think.' Jodie forged on, determined not to give her once lover time to react. "Doctor said its leukemia." She nearly choked on the words, "it's really bad Mark." Automatically denial rose like a black cloud blanketing the vast landscape of his mind, nearly unmanning his common sense.

But worse still were the strained and sickly eyes of the once fierce femme fatale and mother of his child, proving his denials false. Angry tears wanted to fall, hot with the indignant fury of years of abuse. Things were bad enough as is with McMahon's scheming; he didn't need for things to go wrong with his estranged lover and their sickly child. "They gonna be able to fix it?" "This ain't no easy fix- "Are they able to fix it?" He interrupted her, his voice powerful and threatening. The Deadman was in no mood to mince words. Jodie flinched, suddenly aware that this man was far from the quiet giant that she once dated. "Mark we need your help." He knew damn well what it was costing Jodie to admit this to him. That knowledge only scared him more

* * *

"Kane!!!" Everyone in the immediate vicinity of the shrill call winced. All of them would like nothing more than to choke the life out of the little worm, but they dare not say a word for fear of the giant whose favor he curried. For all his many faults, Paul Bearer knew how to pick his protectors well. First Undertaker, then Vader, Mankind, and finally Kane, and it was wondered by a great many how could a fat strident little toad like him could control any one of these famously unstable men at all? Charismatic he was not, not by any sense of the imagination.

"Kane!!!" Paul would have smiled in satisfaction at every wince his call produced, if not for the disquiet of his missing 'client' had not been consuming him. He could afford to be unpleasant as he pleased, as long as things were the way they were. Free to have what he thought was his due as one of the world's castaways, in a world filled with ignorant and blind fools. But the former mortician was many things, but he was far from stupid. He knew all too well that his survival so to speak depended upon the good will of his 'clientele'. It was part of the reason why he had betrayed one of his biggest money makers' the Undertaker.

For all his seemingly stoic and aloof manner, Mark Calloway was just a young man when he came to the WWF. But as Mark became more confident in himself, and more victories and popularity amassed, Bearer feared his influence would not be able to hold for much longer. The manager wasn't arrogant enough to think that he was all powerful. And in his conniving little mind, Taker's betrayal was a foregone conclusion. Now Kane was showing signs of independence of his own, 'which means its bout dat time.' He thought with a contemplative grimace.

* * *

_Mosh and Thrasher stared at their opponents, nervous apprehension fighting to consume them. This was supposed to be an easy match, if at all. McMahon had played the four horsemen beautifully, taking out the eldest in the early goings in the night. The hammer of the horseman disappeared with his sister, protecting her from any further attacks. Too bad he didn't think to keep an eye on his younger siblings because the two younger horsemen were taken down, or so it would seem. But here Viluppo and Morte stood, both whole and mostly healthy, and both pissed beyond all reason. _

_Viluppo bared her teeth, her growl being drowned out by the crowd. She jumped up onto the apron and then over the top rope. The light red bruising of on her face was offset by the more severe blue and orange ones littering her arms and stomach. To say the least Viluppo was not in a good mood, and she wanted to start. Morte moved, walking up the steps to take her place on the apron. The headbangers shot each other looks now unsure of what to do. They argued amongst themselves until the bell rang, forcing Mosh to step up and face off against the younger horseman. _

"_Well JR, this is definitely going to be the end, there's no possible way Viluppo and Morte can win." Lawler proclaimed from his place at the announce table. "I wouldn't count those two young ladies out just yet king." His partner retorted. Inside the ring, Mosh had already taken the early advantage, sending the younger horseman flying to the corner opposite of her sister. But the referee made no moves to admonish the wrestler as he followed her in with a clothesline, then bouncing back, came at her again with meaty fist. This was a no holds barred match after all. The light skinned diva covered up as best she could, trying to think passed the blows being rained down on her head and torso. _

_From their respective places on the apron, both Thrasher and Abeebah egged their partners on. And yet the dark woman's calls went unheeded, as the third born horseman continued to get pummeled. Everyone knew that the willowy horseman's bird like frame could not take a prolonged amount of abuse, Viluppo included. But it was quite blatant that the head banger wasn't going to let up. She grunted as another shot connected through her defenses. Growling, the younger horseman finally decided on a course of action, and pitching forward Viluppo's forehead connected painfully with Mosh's nose._

_As he fell back the horseman grasped his arm, reversing the wiry man's impetus and sending him careening into her up raised knee. The official didn't see the fact that her knee connected with Mush's nuts. Thrasher however did, and tried to interfere as his partner fell. Rushing through the top and middle rope, Thrasher tried to get to his partner only to be stopped by the referee. Viluppo smiled cruelly in his direction before going after Mush, her booted heels connecting repeatedly with the poor man's stomach and groin. _

_And she didn't let up until the official turned his attention back inside the ring. Dragging her opponent by the foot to the center, Viluppo applied one of her sister's favored moves. Compression locks weren't the third born horseman's forte, but she was too angry to care. Agony was she and her sister's aim. So twisting the man's leg in an unnatural angle, the dark eyed young woman wrapped her legs around the knee joint, and fell back into the mat. _

_Dazed as he was, Mosh could still feel the wrenching pain firing through his overtaxed synapses. But again Thrasher was helpless to do anything, as the rules for no holds barred while lax, still prohibited cheating. Violently the chaotic horseman pulled on the limb she had locked up, causing Mosh to yell in pain. To say the least, it was music to the sadistic girl's ears. And the more the man in her hold screamed, the more bloodthirsty she became. Desperately the painted wrestler tried to crawl his way to the ropes. _

_Only to have bitten back a scream as Viluppo wrenched back into an even more unnatural angle. Thrasher stomped his foot and beat his hand against the turnbuckle, utterly unaware of the elder horseman watching him from the other side of the ring. Morte leaned against the turnbuckle in her corner, tense and ready for a fight, but well aware that this wasn't the time to interfere, and in this way she was patience personified. "The feminine halves of the four horsemen are putting on a great showing here tonight." _

_JR observed Viluppo's technique fascinated by the uncharacteristic change in tactics, "It seems that the dare devil Viluppo is slowing it down here in the early going." "Of course she is Ross," King retorted, "that witch is looking to punish, to destroy Mosh."It was fairly obvious that the younger horseman was being more cautious, even though Lawler thought it was because of something else entirely. "And can you blame her?" his co-anchor fired back just as heatedly. "They were attacked not once, but twice by the headbangers- "Oh stop the whining JR, they had it coming."The Oklahoma cowboy looked indignant. "You're say'n that they deserved be'n harassed?" _

"_I'm say'n they should have never crossed the boss." Using muscles that he never knew he had, Mosh was able to finally turn over and sit up, taking off enough of the pressure on his leg to fight back. "Viluppo is in a bit of trouble here." Mosh balled his fist, unceremoniously throwing sloppy punches at his opponent who was now at a disadvantage. Because she was now on her stomach, the younger horseman was unable to avoid them, and had to endure the meaty shots to the back of her skull. The chaotic rider tried to cover her head as best as she could while rolling away._

_Desperately the head banger did the same, trying urgently to reach his partner's corner while the light skinned woman was still stunned. "And it looks like the tables have turned on this match up, once again in the head bangers' favor. Viluppo needs to dig deep and find a way to get to her sister." JR called. Viluppo stumbled to her feet, precariously trying to shake off the stars now clouding her vision. Her sister watched from the apron, a snarl tearing its way passed her masked lips, as she silently urged the lighter horseman to make the exchange. _

_It was for not, because Mosh still managed to drag his carcass to the corner where Thrasher anxiously awaited to be tagged in. And hauling himself up, the head banger did just that, collapsing under the bottom rope, as Thrasher exploded from the corner. Viluppo didn't know what hit her. One moment she was reeling from one too many punches to the back of her head, the next Thrasher is on her like a ton of bricks. She collapsed under his greater bulk unable to defend against her larger opponent. _

_Morte watched, silent and still as her sister was tackled to the mat. She was seething as Thrasher quickly got up and then dropped elbow first into Viluppo's back. Getting up again, the head banger wrenched her arm toward him, causing the third born horseman to stumble to her feet, only to be knocked back down as Thrasher extended his other arm into a vicious clothesline. The third born horseman felt dizzy with pain, as the back of her head connected with the canvas, a resounding pop echoing throughout the arena. "Oh, that's gonna smart in the morn'n."King said in a rare show of empathy. JR wince along with him, "I think that, that is hurting something awful now King." _

_Thrasher quickly moved to cover the fallen horseman. "One, two, no Viluppo got the shoulder up." The dark eyed horseman rolled over onto her side, only vaguely aware of the temper tantrum her opponent was throwing just a stone's throw away from her. She took this time to simply taking deep gulping breathes of oxygen, not bothering with trying to think beyond the ringing in her ears. Thrasher was on his knees beside her, frustratingly punching the mat, obviously trying to figure out why nothing he was doing was working. _

_His partner snarled at him from his all but stationary position in the corner. "We don't have time for this, get it done." He grumbled over the roaring spectators. Thrasher shot him a heated look before finally turning his attention back to his downed opponent. The bald wrestler shoved Viluppo onto her back, and then kneeling down himself wrapped his arms around her hips, flipping her right side up as he stood. Automatically the chaotic rider knew that Thrasher intended to power bomb her._

_Knowing this, the third born horseman quickly forced herself to perform a curl up, her legs tightening around his head for more leverage. Using the lurching force to her advantage, both Viluppo's fist connected with Thrasher's face. She dropped back, the momentum adding violently to her otherwise slight weight. The stunned head banger was thrown forward, and over Viluppo's head. Suddenly airborne, Thrasher was sent helplessly careening back first into the turnbuckle. Simultaneously, Viluppo let go, dropping to the mat below jarringly. Blood now stained her lax knuckles._

"_Oh my God, what a shot, ladies and gentlemen you could hear that thud a mile away."Jerry 'the king' Lawler rolled his eyes as his partner waxed on the praises thick on the second youngest horseman's innovativeness. "Both Thrasher and Viluppo are down; Viluppo must make a tag if she and Morte have any hope of winning this match." Morte all but hung over the top rope, her hand stretched over the abyss of space that was between them. Vainly the dark eyed diva reached out to her partner, trying to crawl the difference in distance between them. _

_Meanwhile Thrasher was struggling to shake the cobwebs most assuredly caused by his skull kissing the canvas. A superficial cut now graced the bridge of his nose. But he was too disoriented to even hear passed the roaring in his ears let alone make it to the corner where Mosh all but lay draped over the turnbuckle. Still the spectators shouted their' bloodlust from where they watched. Everyone recognized the passion, the aggression defined the younger chaotic horseman, knew that it could be enough to defeat any opponent, but if she were given the chance. Finally both wrestlers seemed to be able to lunge forward; Viluppo catching her sister's outstretched hand and Thrasher smacking Mosh on the wrist. _

_Morte didn't even bother paying her downed sister any mind as she dived through the first and second ropes. She immediately went for Mosh, mind already working out the most economic way to make this asshole scream. Mosh could do nothing but watch in wide eyed horror as she came at him, chilling calculation turning her whiskey orbs an unpleasant neon honey comb color. And just as suddenly she was upon him, grasping him by the throat with both hands, intent upon dragging him in by his neck._

_Only to be attacked from behind! "Oh my god! It's Shane! It's the Posse, they came out of nowhere." Beside JR, King's I told you so's were drowned out by the din of indignant fans. Intent upon the poor battered Mosh, the eldest horseman didn't see them coming through the barricade. And while her back was turned to them, Shane-o-Mac distracted the referee while his childhood friends went after the horsemen. Two of them attacked the darkest horseman with steel chairs while the other went after her exhausted sister with a baseball bat._

_Smack!!! The oldest apocalyptic rider howled in pain, falling sideways as she desperately tried to reach for her back, which was now awash with the stinging of a thousand needles. The two former frat boys didn't stop there, one of them taking aim at her back as it seemed to be her weak spot and the other aiming for her knees to make sure she couldn't get up. Instinctively the masked woman tried to roll away from the pain, managing only to increase the agony threefold as she accidentally rolled out of the ring. _

_Viluppo had her own problems as she was being clubbed in the arms and sides with a baseball back. She tried rolling away from the pain, cursing and threatening the man attacking her with an unequalled fever. And just as soon as another hit connected with her ribs, the third born horseman was left alone again. It took a long moment to force her velvety gaze open, only to see Evan had knocked her assailant clear out of the ring. She couldn't see Morte or Guerra anywhere, and hoped to hell that they were together and keeping the ever loving holy crap out of the rest of their attackers. Outside of the ring Guerra was barely holding his own against the two posse members who had attacked Abeebah and Mosh whom had caught a second wind._

_His elder sister was scarcely aware of this as she tried lever herself up. The official was still being distracted by the younger McMahon. Backhanding the big blond off his shoulder Guerra called out to Morte, only half joking about needing assistance. She heard him, but was still fighting passed the unprecedented torture that was currently lighting her back on fire. The hammer of the horsemen tripped Mosh, catching a meaty fist to the face in the process. "A little help here Beebs!" He called once more._

_If she had the breath to do so the deathly horseman would've cursed him out. As it was, Morte was trying to move, without feeling as if she had to find a way to claw off her own skin. Falling to her knees, the dark horseman reached under the ring, looking for a weapon. In the ring, Viluppo managed to get to her feet. And ignoring her own injuries climbed to the top rope, launched herself on top of the former frat boy whose attention was solely focused on her younger brother. Seeing her coming, Evan went for the man's knees._

"_Oh my god!!!" The opposing inertia of the younger horsemen collided and the results were comparable to a car wreck. Lue's chop block had connected with the man's knees at the same moment Viluppo came flying directly at the back of his head, causing his forehead to smack the concrete and his shins most likely to break under the pressure of Lue's shoulder still holding him up. But the inventive move caused the siblings almost as much. Viluppo's heart nearly beating out of her chest and Lue trapped under the weight of the downed Posse member. _

_On the other side of the ring, Mosh had jumped on Guerra's back, placing the second born horsemen in a sleeper hold while the blond posse member held onto his ankle. They didn't see Morte coming. Konk!!! A lead pipe swung true, and found its mark on Mosh's lower back. He dropped, rolling away as his legs could no longer hold his weight. Morte spun, taking a knee so that her aim was low, and once again struck true, this time with the back of the blond's head. She let the pipe drop before moving to grasp the head banger by the throat. "Deal with him," Morte snarled at her brother while pointing toward the where Shane was still arguing with the referee._

_Getting into the ring, the combat minded horseman did just that as his older sister all but threw Mosh into the ring. Next Morte grasped the blond posse member by the foot, hauling his carcass around to the other side of the ring. There her youngest brother still lay pinned under the weight of the older man. Viluppo had managed to roll off of him and lay on the unforgiving concrete breathing in conspicuous gulps of air._

_Dropping the foot she held onto, the eldest horseman bent over and rolled the man off her brother. Dazedly he thanked Morte before his eyes became wide as he abruptly grabbed her wrist and pulled her down to the concrete. "What the hell- The masked woman was cut off mid sentence as the younger McMahon was sent flying over the top rope, missing her and Evan by inches. Guerra stepped through the second and third rope before hopping down to the floor. For a moment he gazed sheepishly down as Morte and Lue as they struggled to their' feet. _

_Viluppo was already on her feet and on her way to the apron. "Hurry up before you're counted out." She called to her sister. The darker horseman flipped Viluppo the bird, "gimme a lift Bran." The elder of her two younger brothers nodded and kneeling down crossed his arms. Morte rushed forward using the lighter horseman's arms as a launch pad to her jump. Guerra thrust his arms upward, helping heighten the already soaring flight. The referee stopped counting in horrified awe as the eldest horseman somehow rotated her body into a back-flip adding velocity as she came down, arms tucked close to her head, and feet together as they connected with Mosh's gaping mouth._

_The chant that followed was deafening, "HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT!!!" Morte rolled away from the fallen carcass that was her fallen opponent. She couldn't help but feel a sickening satisfaction as the head banger was unable to even move. Catching a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye, the masked horseman got up and tagged her sister in, "finish him."Then she went after Thrasher whom was trying to stumble his way in the ring. The official was already so preoccupied with the younger horseman dropping into cover Mosh, he didn't even see the upper cut that sent the other head banger flying over the top rope. Their victory was elementary._

"_Yo, Yo, Forfeit the game, before somebody else, takes you out of the frame, and puts your name to shame, Cover up your face, you can't run the race, the pace is too fast, you just won't last." Viluppo bounced to her feet suddenly exalted with the fresh glow of triumph. Her smile was a mile wide as she all but skipped to her sister's side. They were soon joined by their brothers and the chaotic rider declared it was time to celebrate, all three of her siblings groaned, but moved knowing that she wouldn't leave them alone until they did so._

_Each of the horsemen took a corner and posed for the cheering crowd. Guerra stood on bottom rope, his arms folded over his chest. Viluppo bounced along with her entrance music on the second rope of the opposite corner, her arms stretched out at her sides as if they were wings. On the other side of the ring, Lue stood on the second rope, his hands cupping around his mouth amplifying his voice, "who runs this?!!" Opposite of him, Morte perched herself on the top rope, crouched with one steadying hand on the rope and the other on her thigh. Flashing lights and smoke filled the arena, furthering the spectacle, the horsemen defying the McMahon regime. _

* * *

But by the time that the four horsemen got backstage the adrenaline had run its course. Lue and Viluppo leaned against each other while their elder sister hobbled alongside them and Guerra absently massaged his sore throat behind them. In a word they were all pretty banged up, but at the same time more than satisfied with how things worked out. By universal consent the horsemen immediately went to the trainers, all of them ignoring the interviewer that was patiently waiting for them just off the gorilla.

The trainers didn't even say a word as each took one horseman to their various stations and began to treat them. And much to Abeebah's chagrin, because of her back she had to take off her shirt and lower the upper half of her full body tights. The darkest of the four siblings had hoped almost with a fever that surprised even herself that, much like the chain tattoo on her ankle that this particular one would go unnoticed. Since it was on her back just below her shoulder blades, it didn't seem like it would be such a hard thing to accomplish.

Abeebah cursed both herself and Mark as neither had taken into account the match she had to suffer through. 'Well you agreed,' the Deadman's agitated mind voice butted in on her thoughts. And with it as slew of emotions that, in Abeebah's humble opinion were just wrong. It was this more than anything else that froze whatever snap retort that her mind would usually come up with. Instead she ignored him, half formed plans of visiting his hotel room tonight already in the works. Abruptly a hiss unintentionally escaped from between her clenched teeth, calling notice to her exposed her back.

"Umm Beebs?" The hazel eyed woman ignored her siblings' half demanding tone as she tried to turn her back away from their' curious eyes. But she was stopped by latex clad hands of the trainer, whom was too busy removing the slightly bloody Goss to really notice the venomous stare she now trained upon him. Three of the four horsemen stared at their sister's back incredulously as the tattoo was revealed to them. Just under Abeebah's shoulder blades was a beautiful rendering of a hooded angel embracing an ancient cross. Gothic letters etched into that very same cross lengthwise spoke the tribute obviously to the younger horsemen, remember.

Suddenly the silence had a whole new meaning. And Abeebah didn't dare look over her shoulder, knowing that there was no way of dodging her siblings' unvoiced demands otherwise. But it was Lue whom stared the hardest, eyes bulging, and not because he was still short of breath from being flattened earlier. Who could their sister trust that she would allow them behind her long enough to do that, who did she know with that skill? The tension piled high, only to be popped by the grumblings of the one treating Abeebah, scolding her for getting in the ring with fresh ink.

Delia snorted, unable to stop herself. Hazel orbs turned on the chaotic horseman with an air of harassment. Hoots of laughter soon followed and Abeebah was grateful for it. It had been a long time since she had been chewed out quite so thoroughly. The darkest horseman made no excuses, and listened carefully to the instructions that he gave as he moved to apply some Vaseline to her irritated skin. Vaguely she registered Brandon, Evan, and Delia deliberately turns their attention to something slightly more festive. Apparently their sister wanted to go clubbing to celebrate. All the more perfect for Abeebah, she had other plans for the rest of her evening.

* * *

_At the squared circle the spectators' appetites' for blood had been wetted anew with the promo of the Austin Kane feud. And now they awaited the arrival of the two combatants, under of the shadow of the hell in the cell. "It has just come down from the big office JR; the title match will be in the cell!" Lawler told his partner excitedly. And as usual Jim Ross was far from impressed by their employer's latest scheme. "What is Mr. McMahon thinking; doesn't Kane already have enough of an unfair advantage?"_

"_Of course not like I said earlier, it doesn't pay to cross the boss." "And oh you think it's just fine and dandy that the boss screws everybody, but as soon as the shoe is on the other foot there's something wrong with that." Ignoring the obvious sarcastic bite in his coworker's voice Jerry 'the king' nodded, "exactly."Any response the Oklahoma cowboy was about to give was interrupted by shattering glass. Cheers erupted from every fan as the Texas rattlesnake came strutting down the ramp, WWF championship in one hand, and a beer in the other. _

_The blue eyed redneck ran up the steel steps, completely ignoring the ominous presence of the cell looming over him as he stepped into the ring and moved to do his signature entrance. To all who were watching, it was the same ol' beer bashing, trash talking, wily Stone Cold. He was in his element despite the conniving plots of the CEO of the WWF. And he froze, just as he was hauling himself up to yet another turnbuckle the pyros went off. The arena went dark with red light just as quickly piercing the gloom. _

_Kane stepped into the ring, his mind focused and ready. This was his time. Screw his 'father', screw the cage currently being lowered around he and Austin, and screw Vince's mechanics whether they were to his benefit or not. They meant nothing, were nothing. All that mattered was winning the title, and finally having something go right in a long history of wrongs in his relatively short life. The big red machine had fixated on his target, and that target was Stone Cold Steve Austin. And yet still, despite all the thoughts contrary, his heart was elsewhere _

_Stone Cold struck, fast and furious with multiple blows, quickly taking control of the match. And though he was hardly surprised, Kane made no move to retaliate. Let the explosive temper of the Texan tire itself out. The rattlesnake drove the big man into a corner. And then proceeded to repeatedly kick Kane in the sternum, the pain was nothing new to the big man. But that didn't make the experience any more pleasant. Kane fell unable to stay up right in the heat of Austin's relentlessness. _

_The referee finally got between them, making the surly rattlesnake back down. Kane didn't dare waste this chance, quickly pulling himself up, and then grasping the smaller man's throat threw him into the corner. Grasping Austin's throat again, the big red machine began to squeeze. He knew that the referee wouldn't allow it to go on, but it wouldn't take much to wring the fight out of the bald wrestler. Kane was right as he vaguely registered the official counting. _

_Kane abruptly let go, forcefully turning on the referee. The big man stared the small official down as Austin fought to shake away a sudden bout of double vision. The chrisom demon scowled, this was supposed to be first blood match so he wondered why there was even a need for a referee. Austin took this time to role outside the ring near the announce table. Then, retrieving one of the extra chairs that were under the ring, the rattle snake slid back in, weapon in tow. The big red machine never saw the shot coming._

_The shot chair shot connected with the teeth rattling force, but Kane managed to stay on his feet. Falling would be inadvisable in a situation with the small, cornered, and very pissed off Texan. Turning around the brunette only managed to once again get hammered by another shot, this time his masked face met the steel and lost. Once again, the big red machine could help but dizzyingly muse on the stupidity of the rules of this match. He couldn't choke Stone Cold, and yet the wily redneck could knock his head in with a chair. _

_Meanwhile Stone Cold had his own problems as Mankind made an appearance, his own steel chair in hand. Somehow the schizophrenic wrestler had managed to get into the cell without anyone really noticing. Then again it was just Austin and Kane whom didn't notice, everyone had saw the little stunt he and Paul Bearer had pulled outside of the cell with the other official. As a result he now was in a standoff with one of the craziest SOB's on the WWF roster. And by no means had the rattlesnake forgot about Kane, it was only a matter of time before that stupid son of a bitch got up. To say the least Stone Cold Steve Austin was not amused._

_Mankind charged finally breaking the stalemate, with the chair held high he had every intention of flattening Stone Cold with. Seeing the obvious maneuver, the rattlesnake lowers his chair so that it was level with the heavier man's sternum. And just as Mankind's chair was about to lay him out, Stone Cold rammed his chair into his stomach, causing him to stumble back. Changing his grip, the blue eyed Texan swung his chair like a baseball bat, catching the curly haired menace in the side. Mankind dropped his chair, and rolled away, trying to escape getting pummeled even more._

_Austin went after him smacking the canvas with each miss. Mankind finally managed to get out of the ring, narrowly missing getting hit as the bald headed wrestler's swing followed him through the first and second rope. Cursing the entire time, Stone Cold turned his attention back on Kane, and once again laid him out with a vile chair shot. The weapon connected with the back of the big red machine's cranium just as the big man managed to sit up. And it was so loud everyone was sure that even the chrisom demon's deceased parents could've felt it._

* * *

What no one, save the Johns siblings knew, was that Undertaker did feel it. Could feel it as intimately as if it were his own skull being bowed around the unforgiving steel. It nearly drove the giant of a man to his knees. And the elder Calloway brother knew, without a doubt that his brother's title shot match had gone south. Worse still was the knowledge that Kane wouldn't back down, as the dark haired man's greatest strength, and weakness lay in his ability to take a beating. He knew that while Kane's mind was capable of withstanding all kinds of horror, his body would never be able to keep up. And there was no hope whatsoever that Steve would ease up, for he was well aware of the big man's tolerance of pain.

Which left Mark even less options as it concerned the situation that his brother found himself in. The thought of coaching Glen through their link briefly crossed his mind, before it was just as quickly dismissed. His mismatched brother would never listen to him, let alone welcome his presence, especially now. Rocking back on his heels the Deadman gripped at his darkened hair, frustration seeping through every pore. Another jarring pain interrupted his deliberations. And baring his teeth in a truly terrifying grimaced he made his decision, "fuck this."

* * *

_Inside the ring, Austin had to once again feign off Mankind. Kane was once again down for the count after getting hit for the third time this time with a fire extinguisher. He didn't even know what was going on just feet away from him. The gluten for punishment had returned this time with a bowling ball still inside of the bag. He swung around with both hands like a mace, as Stone Cold cautiously worked his way around him, wary of the very heavy weapon he was wielding. Suddenly Mick Foley let go, sending it hurling. Austin ducked, and once again used the chair as an effective weapon to send the older man packing. But unbeknownst to them, the bag hit the referee knocking him out. _

_The rattlesnake turned to use the chair on Kane, knowing that the longer he kept the big man down the more time he had to figure out a way to make him bleed. What he didn't see was that the Undertaker was coming. When he felt the ring shit under his feet Austin thought it was Mankind again. Automatically he raised his chair as he turned, not prepared for the chair shot he all but walked into. Metal smacking against metal, smacking into flesh, it didn't take a genius to figure out what gave first. Falling, Stone Cold's face was now a bloody mess. And seeing his work finished Taker left, knowing that it wouldn't take long for his brother and the official to come too. He didn't even look back as he heard the bell ring. _

Later that night Mark sat at the edge of his hotel room bed. His elbows on his knees, the Deadman looked utterly miserable. Whatever was occupying his thoughts was eating him from the inside out. 'He felt absolutely wretched,' unable to stop herself, Abeebah approached him, her hands sneaking forward to rest on his thighs. Automatically the big man's frame shook. He looked up, ready to say anything, everything to get her to leave. But one look in those blank hazel orbs stopped whatever rebuke was on his lips.

* * *

Kneeling down Abeebah situated herself further between those glorious leather clad thighs. Absently drawing tattooed arms around her back Abeebah rapped her own arms around her bond mate's middle, and rested her head on his upper sternum. A shuddering sigh shook his frame, long auburn lashes shuttering over anguished brightened eyes. Abeebah didn't see his tears. She didn't need to. To know his suffering was enough, to know that she would be just as miserable if she didn't do something was enough.

They stayed in this embrace until all the big man's tears was exhausted, and the grief stricken quaking reduced to tired trembles. And even then Abeebah found it difficult to let go, but she did knowing that Mark's pride would allow for nothing less. But instead of letting her go, her elder bond mate grasped her chin, letting her see his tear stained face. She was trapped, caught by the sheer force behind that piercing gaze. It commanded her to yield and she did, suddenly finding her face being fit between two big palms, and her lips being slowly savored.

Eyes locked, Mark leisurely explored the texture of his bond mate's plump lips, taking his sweet time in reacquainting himself with their citrus like flavor. Abeebah's own tongue darted out playfully trying to catch its abnormally long counterpart. A low chuckle vibrated through them both as the Deadman deftly avoided the questing appendage. Sliding his hands further up and into the thick fall of Abeebah's hair, the red haired man pressed his lips more firmly against her, not letting up on his leisurely exploration.

Abeebah made a half growling noise in the back of her throat, feeling the intense passion of the elder redhead focus upon her. It was like having slivers of ice skitter across her skin, tamping down her overheated nerve endings. But she was still aware of Mark's hands slipping down her waist, and around her flanks, abruptly pulling the dark woman on top of his lap, as he fell back into the bed. Instinctively she braced her hands at either side of his head and clenched her knees against his sides. He toyed with the hem of her pajama top, "take this off."

Dark brow arched mockingly, "and what if I don't? Daddy Deadman gonna spank me?" Immediately she knew it was wrong thing to say as it seemed that an infinite black vortex wanted to swallow them both whole. Acid green orbs froze over into lakes of winter mint with the lethal speed of an avalanche. His hands fell away. And for once Abeebah didn't think to hesitate. Striking, the youngest of the trinity sunk her blunt teeth into Mark's shoulder. The elder Calloway hissed, unable to hold on to the funk he was just about to sink back into. "Woman," his husky drawl held equal parts warning, exasperation, and appreciation as he buried his hands in her curly mop, yanking on the thick bounty.

As she was inevitably dragged away by her hair, Abeebah made sure to retain enough pressure so that her teeth marks would leave welts behind. "No more talking," she implored her best friend, leaning forward, despite the grip firmly entrenched in her hair. Abeebah kissed him, slow thorough with the knowledge that this was one of the few times she would indulge herself in such intimate contact. 'No thinking, just be with me.'


	25. Trouble Is As Trouble Does

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update ya'll, but I haven't had a moment to breathe all this semester. Hopefully ya'll like this latest installment as short as it is. -Rei

* * *

Evan watched his sister get ready for her and Brandon's outing for the evening. He wasn't going for obvious reasons. He probably should've stayed in his elder brother's room, but the youngest horseman was still coming down from the adrenaline high. He had assumed that remaining within Abeebah's placid company would help calm all the way down. Yet as soon as they went to the hotel room Abeebah shut herself in the bathroom. The youngest horseman had no idea what he was going to do for the rest of the night. Their bland sibling hadn't said it of course, but the strain was already quite obvious.

"What do ya think?" Snapping his attention back to Delia, Evan answered immediately, long familiar with the older horseman's method of making sure that she had whoever it was focused on her. Deliberately he looked her up and down then made a neutral sound that Delia could interpret any way she wanted to. "Smart ass," the youngest horseman said nothing as the chaotic rider used cosmetics to try and hide the colorful bruising on her face. Delia hissed in pained frustration, as she had to all but cake on foundation thickly over a particularly stubborn black contusion ringed with blue.

Yet somehow the younger of his two sisters still managed to be stunning in a silver dress, that was cut so dangerously high on her thigh that it might as well been a shirt. The dark brown riding boots she paired them with, looked startling appropriate. What possessed the elder horseman to wear such revealing clothes while she was still sporting a rainbows worth of bruising that even the best cosmetics couldn't conceal, not to mention a host of minor cuts, and abrasions baffled the horsemen's manager.

But then crazy explained a lot of things these days, and Evan couldn't see why this shouldn't be placed in the same category. It didn't really matter as Delia wouldn't care anyway. The third born horseman was a vain creature, with no doubts about her own beauty regardless to any imperfections. Again the youngest of the Johns siblings couldn't help but wonder at what quirk of nature produced the younger of his two sisters. It wasn't as if their parents encouraged Delia's confidence while they were still alive.

The bathroom door opened, and Abeebah came out dressed in her pajamas. The two younger horsemen eyebrows rose. "Why aren't you dressed," Their dark sister gave Delia a droll look. "I'm tired; we just survived an attempt on our lives after all." Evan looked equally as incredulous as his dark eyed sister. "Even more reason to want to celebrate if you asked me." Delia suddenly pointed out slyly. Not missing a beat the eldest Johns gave her trademark Mona Lisa smile, the first one in months, in fact. "What do you think I was doing earlier?"

While the chaotic horseman was momentarily stunned speechless, Evan forged ahead so as not to miss the chance as to finally squeeze some straight answers out of his eldest sibling. "Speaking of which, who da fuck convinced you to get a tattoo?" Abeebah shrugged slowly obviously still pained by the fresh ink. "Same person I went on a date with." Abruptly the third born horseman snapped out of her stupor. Pointing a triumphant finger at the elder young woman Delia smirked slyly.

"So you admit it was a date." Vaguely amused by the brunette's blatant innuendo, the darkest horseman cocked her head. "I never denied it in the first place." Again Delia raised an eyebrow, "if I didn't know better I'd say that you were with a woman." The statement was a blatant challenge, meant to trip the dark horseman up. Too bad for the other Johns, Abeebah was still the queen of comebacks. "Would you care if I was?" This sent the usually wily Johns into a sputtering fit as Abeebah sauntered to her bed and carefully crawled under the covers.

Intentionally the darkest horseman turned on her side, and away from the inquisitive eyes of her youngest siblings. Evan shook his head. It was obvious that Abeebah was in a playful mood, and they had lost their chance at getting the distant woman to admit to anything besides what was obvious. Really they should be grateful that their sister had finally achieved even that level of contentment, but misery loved company and for the youngest horseman, Abeebah was poor companionship. Too tired, frustrated, and hurting, Evan growled, "I'm going to get someth'n to eat."

Abeebah didn't move. The youngest horseman then glanced at his chaotic sister, "have a good time but not too good of a time." Shaking of her momentary stupor Viluppo gave her younger brother a teeth baring smile, while she placed a mock hurt expression in her tone of voice as she spoke, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean by that." Abeebah continued to ignore them, more than aware that to do so was to again draw their' curiosity. He left without another word and Delia doing the same soon after. The darkest horseman waited yet still a little while longer before sneaking out, she had a depressed Deadman to find.

* * *

Kane sat in the corner of his hotel room, a small novel lay open on the table. And he had been staring at the same page for twenty minutes, stubbornly trying to ignore the bare bones room that currently was his cage. It took every bit of what little self control that he had not to throw a temper tantrum. He shouldn't be all that surprised that nothing changed with the end of Austin's reign. Men like Bearer and McMahon didn't give up power freely, even if the power they were giving away was infinitesimal in comparison to what they'd gain.

The brunette shook out his wild curls. Try as he might, the big red machine could not think himself less a fool. Time had taught him nothing in terms of heart break. They always left in the end. And in the end he would always be left to rot away. Even those who returned to the fold of his life only did so to make use of him, one way or another. Rebellion welled up in Kane's gut making him very much physically ill. All he wanted to do was to storm out of that hotel room and never come back.

Forget about his brother, forget about every painful back stabbing, gut wrenching headache that had been hammering in the back of his mind, Kane was so fucking tired. He stood, slamming the book shut as he moved to the bathroom. He was barely able to close the door behind himself before kneeling in worship to the porcelain goddess. Gasping breaths escaped his dry heaves burning up his esophagus. All the money and vengeance in the world couldn't make up for what was already lost, and what Glen was sure he would continue to lose.

With every breath the dark haired demon fought against the instinct to reach out to those whom he believed that he couldn't trust. Abeebah's warnings rung like rusted bells in the back of his brain. An unholy screeching noise that was as hideous and derelict as any truth ever was. He could see his brother's reflection in his own now, staring at him accusingly through the contaminated water of the toilet. And unable to take it anymore the big red machine hooded his own gaze, salty tears stung his closed eyelids, 'some champion,' he couldn't help but think disparagingly.

* * *

Panting breaths eased into long drawn in lungs full of air. Spent and content, Mark lay under his still seated bond mate, large hands gripping the generous swell of her hips. Abeebah sat, shoulders hunched forward in his lap, thighs flexing with the exertion of keeping herself from tumbling further into the curve of the Deadman's body. Regaining her breath the brandy eyed woman spoke, voice fairly hushed in the wake of their ardent euphoria.

"That was fun." The young Philadelphian couldn't seem to describe what they had been doing to each other as anything else, despite Taker's obvious reaction. Incredulous, the elder Calloway brother stared up into the passion darkened gaze of his dark haired 'friend'. Abruptly he had to remind himself that despite her worldliness, Abeebah was still innocent in the arena of carnal pleasure, except the one time with both he and his brother, and the time that they were interrupted by her siblings, Abeebah hadn't indulged in this particular activity.

How he knew this Taker dare not contemplate, "Why haven't you had sex with anyone else?" he couldn't help but ask, as Abeebah made herself even more comfortable astride his thighs. She stared at him as if he were the dumbest idiot in the world. "Are you forgetting Mark that before you and Glen came trampling in my life, I barely had the ability to feel anything?" She deliberately leaned forward, allowing the thick trail of her hair to brush erotically against Mark's pectoral muscles.

"That doesn't explain why you didn't sleep with anyone after- Mark was cut off when Abeebah abruptly claimed his lips in a thorough dance of tongue and teeth, hoping to distract him quite effectively from his earlier line of questioning. And when she felt callus roughened hands swim through her long hair, Abeebah thought that she had succeeded. Only to groan she was pulled away, "you were saying- Taker trailed off with a wave of his unoccupied hand, clearly indicating when he and their fellow bond mate slept together.

Pouting, the eldest horseman calculatingly cast her gaze below Deadman's chin. The dark haired woman was determined to say nothing on the topic her green eyed friend seemed fixated on. Her previous and current lack of love life notwithstanding the eldest horseman had no interest in such things. She leaned forward, cautiously testing Mark's grip on her curls. She glared when the big man tugged his fistful in warning, "now don't go doing nothin' funny darlin'." Abeebah's eyes suddenly hooded in sensual drowsiness, and her lips stretched into a sinister smirk.

Mark knew he was in trouble, knew that the smartest thing he could at this moment was to get away from her, and now. 'But then again I never accredited myself with having a great amount of intelligence.' His youngest bond mate might not know much, but she was a quick and creative study. Abeebah ground her pert bottom against the red head's reawakening hardness as she arched her back, so that the fall of her bosom was temptingly at eye level. "I wasn't aim'n ta make ya laugh."

* * *

"She's a distraction." Matt Hardy looked at him and his brother's new manager dubiously. Though the man had been part of the long successful stable, the elder Hardy boy couldn't help but think Hayes was getting a little too touchy about something that had nothing to do with him. Jeff and Viluppo weren't exactly a conventional couple, not even by WWF standards. Jeff was very much the wild daredevil and his girlfriend, the most viscous woman ever to step into the squared circle. All in all, they were both sick in the head.

And it was for that reason the dark haired Hardy wasn't about to say anything that would necessarily contradict the man. "It isn't like they really get involved in each others' work, so does it really matter?" It was true, besides the one time they had saved Viluppo and her older sister, he and Jeff never really got involved with the beautiful horseman in their place of work. The look of exasperation clouded the blond man's features. "Kid ya'll two want to get anywhere in this business you have to be completely focused."

Matt went on, pretending as if he didn't hear what Hayes just said, because while he agreed with the sentiment, he seriously doubted Jeff would see it that way. "And why are ya com'n to me bout this? Ain't it Jeff who ya aught to be hav'n this discussion with if it's so important?" Again The dark eyed Hardy was given a exasperated look, this time accompanied by an eye roll. "He ain't gonna listen to me." The 'moron' was left unsaid, but Matt heard it in his tone loud and clear. Stiffening, the elder Hardy's features gained an embarrassed if harassed flush.

"What? Ya think I'm gonna try and talk him into breaking up with Viluppo. Are you insane?" Brown eyes darted over the railing he was standing by nervously. Hayes features turned ruddy with agitation, "what part of, he ain't gonna listen to me, don't you understand?" Matt idly wondered what made the older man think that the rainbow haired Hardy would listen to him. Throwing a casual arm around the younger man's shoulders, Hayes continued to make his point as best as he could without letting his temper get the best of him.

"Being with one of the horsemen can only do more harm than good anyway, Vince is already fixated on ruining Morte's career. And since Viluppo is siding with her, the boss won't hesitate to make anyone who is associated with them lives a living hell." Matt watched from his vantage point, one of the upper balcony's of the club as his little brother whipped his girlfriend across the dance floor. "I'm more worried about what Viluppo's brothers and sister would do to us."

* * *

And while Matt and Michael Hayes watched the crazy couple, Brandon watched them from the bar on a balcony across from them. The second born horseman nursed a vodka cocktail, trying to block out the almost acid trip like feel of the music, combined with strobe lights bouncing off reflective walls. There was no way to hear what they were saying but that didn't stop him from speculating on whatever conversation they were having.

Whatever they were talking about obviously not something pleasant, if the hunted look on Matt's face was anything to go by, the Hardys' new manager was making him damn unhappy. A hysterical thought sluggishly occurred to the tipsy wrestler. It might have something to do with Hayes getting a little too cozy with the darker Hardy. His tenuous gaze swung away from them and toward the dance floor where Delia was putting on quite the show.

As the lyrics of Black Street's No Diggity flooded the club speaker system, the horsemen's wild child had pushed the young daredevil into a chair, and proceeded to give him a lap dance that a professional would envy. The caramel skinned young woman leaned over her seated boyfriend, her hands gripping the rails of the chair's back support. Her hips moved in a languid gyrating motion, but never quite touched Jeff's lap. Clearly taunting, and always teasing, the chaotic rider wordlessly challenged the male beneath her.

Brandon only felt mildly interested in his younger sister's head games. But as buzzed as he was feeling it didn't matter, as the light-skinned horseman was well on his way to being drunk. And anything that could distract himself from doing something stupid was welcome at this point. "Brandon? Brandon Johns, is that you? Ya crafty son of a bitch, what are ya doing here?!" The horseman's cleanup hitter froze, abruptly cutting a suspicious glare down at his clear concoction. "I'm not that drunk."


	26. Forgive me for I have sinned

Jeff was the envy of every man and some women in the club. He was the subject to the attentions of the hottest girl to ever to step foot on this particular floor. And as the rainbow haired Hardy sat in the chair, his legs splayed comfortably out, Viluppo danced facing away from him, arms over her head, and hips rotating in a slow grind just shy of his hip bone, tauntingly close. The younger half of the Hardy boyz naughtily reached for the voluptuous curvy backside temptingly swaying to and fro.

Only to have his hand slapped away, Viluppo suddenly turned around, waving a disapproving finger in his face. Snapping his teeth at the offending digit in playful retaliation, the North Carolina native groaned as his girlfriend straddled him. Her 'dress' bunched further up toned thighs, barely stopping at the hem of her panties. It was an absurdly appealing idea to again reach for the little demon fixated at giving him a hard on. But Jeff recognized the same mercurial temperament in Viluppo as he did himself. She might revel in his defiance now, but Viluppo could just easily take a crochet bat to his balls.

And for a daredevil such as the pale tag team wrestler, it only added to the rush. Delia smiled down at her boyfriend. She couldn't recall ever having this much fun before. Jeff just knew what buttons to press, and when to not press his luck. 'Or at least most of the time,' she thought wryly of some of the more questionable stunts her boyfriend had pulled, both in and out the ring. The third born horseman couldn't decide whether or not she liked him less for that.

'Snap out of it, contemplation is Beebs area of expertise.' Covering for her slip, Delia used the armrests of Jeff's seat to support her as she leaned even closer into her captive audience's personal space. Rolling her belly in a purely sensual move, the honey skinned horseman's bosom was now level with the rainbow haired wrestler's chin, an effective distraction as Delia brought up her booted heel up, and around his hip while balancing with the other. Still, she managed not to touch him. "You're killing me Villi. I'm turn'n blue here," Jeff all but whined as she somehow maintained minimal physical contact.

She laughed, "The only thing you will be dying from tonight Tiger is exhaustion." Backing off the chaotic horseman got up from her eccentric lover's lap and finally placed her hands on his thighs. The poor boy's heart beat a couple hundred miles a minute as he watched Viluppo's fine boned digits inch upward. Still she continued to dance moving effortlessly with the tune blasting throughout the club. The hawk eyed anarchist threw her head back, causing her sun kissed mane to fall away and reveal some of the more stubborn bruising, which was unable to be concealed.

* * *

Abeebah wanted to groan in frustration as Mark held her pinned to the mattress. Even with their thighs, and more intimate areas were rubbed deliciously against each other, her elder bond mate would not be distracted. Not this time, as they were momentarily sated of their more primal instincts. She glared up at him, very much aware that she couldn't dodge his inquisitive gaze. "Come on, it's not that hard of a question to answer," he fought back the smirk that wanted to creep upon his thin mouth.

Hard-hearted and usually steady nerved, Undertaker's friend was becoming twitchy, and Abeebah was never twitchy. "What is with you and your obsession with my sex life?" Immediately the dark horseman bared her teeth in warning as she felt the echoes of his mirth, not to mention his unwavering curiosity. "At most sex is beneficial recreation Mark, which I have, at best, minimal desire to partake in." The eloquence didn't impress Deadman, even though he could only half understand what the dark woman trapped beneath him was saying, he latched onto what she was trying to sidestep.

Stretching her captured hands further above her head, the red headed wrestler pushed his pelvis firmly against hers. And watched with fascination and no small amount of lust as her back arched, eyes closed in rapture with the electricity sparking across their link. "But desire it you do, so why not indulge?" Abeebah's eyes snapped open and glared with enough heat to evaporate the Atlantic "What the fuck do you think I'm doing now?"

Mark didn't dare laugh, he might have the 'upper hand' as of yet but he had no doubt that his 'friend 'would find a way to hurt him. "You never blow off steam with anyone." Curiosity laced with worry filtered their link. Again the young woman seemed confused by him, "I thought a man would like the thought of having his woman all to himself." Mark's prick twitched, his libido spiking on a purely primal level. For all her lack of experience, and nature to the contrary, Abeebah was a surprisingly sensual woman. Sometimes the darkest horseman would say just the right things, in just the right tone, to get the just right response from those not so innocent subjects of attraction.

Even now Mark had to fight with every instinct in his body to not track the progress of the bead of sweat, which was gathering at the hollow of her throat. The red haired man's not so innocent bed partner had piqued his curiosity, not to mention niggling worry. "In some cases," he informed her gruffly, finally being able to speak passed the lump in his throat. Dark brows suddenly rose, "not in yours though?" The Deadman's features contorted and ripened with the images that accompanied that particular statement. If he didn't feel the discerning feedback from Abeebah's annoyance/amusement, the elder Calloway would think that she didn't know exactly what she was doing. "You can tell me what's got ya spooked, you know that right?"

Unconsciously a luscious bottom lip was tugged upon by not so bone white teeth. An awkward cant of dark eyes bespoke all too fluently the feeling behind the unusual gesture. A rising tide of warmth swept over the once cool comfort, and Abeebah became unnervingly aware of what Taker was really asking, but would not say. Do you trust me? The gem eyed woman couldn't honestly say that she did. And not for the first time, the first lady of the horseman wanted to curse the complexity of relationships to the deepest and darkest regions that her imagination could produce.

* * *

The steaming vernacular that that shot out of Evan's mouth was tactless, tasteless, and otherwise anatomically impossible to comprehend by anyone that wasn't Brandon. The youngest horseman quickly ducked his head and stared at the menu in his hand. His hunger suddenly dropped like a slab of solid bedrock into the pit of his guts. And although whatever apatite the young manager had died a suddenly violent death, he didn't dare get up. To do so would mean calling unwanted attention to himself, with no one to help him out of the pit of shit he was likely to fall into.

Using the menu that was already in his hand as a shield to hide his face, the youngest Johns turned his eyes heavenward. 'What have I done to possibly deserve this? Did I somehow drop kick Helen Keller and butt fuck Anne Frank in a previous life?' Sitting across from him, Kane visually cut a swath through the rest of the hotel restaurant. The big man had forgone his usual bandage method of covering his face, and had worn a thick hoodie instead. But even the most nondescript clothing in the world couldn't cover the brunette's signature posture which was almost as iconic as his red and black mask. The younger Calloway was alone which was surprising but no less dangerous.

"Sir?" Quickly snapping out of his funk the hazel eyed teen apologized to the server trying to get his attention. The waiter just smiled and placed a drink, presumably an alcoholic beverage in front of him, "the gentlemen over there wanted to buy you a drink." Evan's automatic response of being underage died from his lips as he looked in the direction the server was pointing. The willowy child never wanted to be so drunk so badly in his entire life.

* * *

Brandon knew he couldn't be 'that' drunk. Idly tapping the glass in his hand, the second born horseman dragged his eyes up to the woman now sitting beside him. Elizabeth Ann Hulette Savage Lubetsky was a southern belle in every sense of the word. Sun kissed skin somehow glowed under the clubs bad strobe lighting, as the woman easily adjusted her knee length a-line skirt. Elizabeth as always looked immaculate with her tightly done coconut colored curls and long pink acrylic nails, which matched her metallic pumps.

The second born horseman tried not to notice the almost translucent russet blouse that she wore over her very visible slip. Elizabeth was a beautifully curvy woman, much like his elder sister. And they had a similar inclination to the classier fashions, and regal turn of phrases, but that's where the similarities ended. The thirty eight year old was also trouble on two legs, a flirt with enough sass to give any man pause. And normally, Brandon would be one of those unfortunate males, but the added benefits of being near drunk as a skunk included not really giving a damn.

"What the ell' are you do'n ere?" She just smiled that sly vulpine grin that revealed her perfectly straight teeth. "Now come on boy, is that any way to treat your cousin." Even the haze of quality liquor couldn't stop the light skinned horseman's reflexive grimace. "Ya divorced Carey a long time ago woman. Besides I don't consider either of ya blood. He's a much a bastard as you are a bitch." Brown skin heated with a half embarrassed half furious blush. And in his inebriated state, Brandon was unable to completely dodge the slap that glanced off the bridge of his nose.

The light skinned wrestler dropped his glass, causing the bartender to struggle to catch the finely cut vessel before it could shatter on the floor. Brandon's teeth rattled just the slightest with the glancing blow, his intoxicated mind only somewhat registering the sting. "I hope you enjoyed that cause' that'll be the last time you ever hit me." He glared through the haze of alcohol currently clouding his judgment. Recognizing the thinly held violence that lurked in the boy barely man before her, Elizabeth cleared her throat. "I guess we can call it square, seeing as you offended my delicate sensibilities."

Though he had only met his relative by proxy few times, Brandon was hardly outgunned even in his near drunken state. "I ain't begun to offend you're sensibilities. Whatever you're game is I suggest ya drop it before I drop you. If ya lucky, I won't tell Abeebah. I think you have a clear remembrance of what she can do to family. I don't think you wanna contemplate what she would do to you." Brandon looked more sadistically giddy than he aught to be able to, "such a waste of a pretty woman." Elizabeth wasn't able to suppress her full body shutter. "Look I didn't know that you were here, but I guess I should warn ya anyway, you're family regardless of what you and ya siblings keep telling yourselves."

* * *

Mick "Mankind Maguire" Foley watched from afar with the rest of Vince McMahon's entourage as the multi millionaire planned out Kane's first address as the WWF champion. Since the newly minted title holder couldn't really speak for himself the sports entertainment tycoon would be doing it for him. The slightly psychotic wrestler knew that he should go warn the big man, but the bitter of defeat was a pill that he hadn't quite completely swallowed. The alter ego of Cactus Jack wasn't remotely ticked off enough to do more than to hurt his 'Cousin Kane' through inactiveness.

As insane as he might be, Mankind was not stupid. He knew who buttered his bread, and who could and most likely would clean his clock. What the Vince lacked in physical prowess and leadership skills, he could make up for in sheer conniving. The fifty two year old was not above making whipping boys out of those in his favor, and the schizophrenic New Yorker knew for a fact that he himself wasn't even close to that level of approval. And until Vince tired of having Kane as a champion, Mankind probably never would have even the slightest chance of obtaining the gold, let alone keeping it.

"We'll keep it straight forward enough, Margo I want that speech done by tomorrow morning no later than ten o' clock. Focus on the adversities and how far this new champion has overcome; I want him to be a poster boy for charity events for recovering trauma patients across the country." Margo, Vince's public relations coordinator didn't bat a lash as she took notes on her employer's wishes. Though she did furrow her brow at the new challenge of somehow making someone like Kane mainstreamable, the un-official polisher of the superstars of the WWF looked forward to the new challenge.

"Maybe we can donate a portion of his bookings from tonight into masks for burn victims? Maybe hire an instructor to improve his social skills, and soften up his image?" Vince's response was immediate, "no, I brought a monster to the WWF, and I'm going to get my money's worth. The donation however is a good idea." "Now ya'll hold it right there," Paul Bearer interrupted them, his grating voiced pitched even higher than usual. "I won't stand fer' anybody cutting ma boy's money even more thinly den it already is." And it was all anyone in the room could do not to scoff; Paul didn't give a damn about anything but his own cut of that after mentioned funds of Kane's paycheck.

The McMahon patriarch wasn't fool enough to try and get rid of the decrepit pit of wasted space, as he had iron clad custody of his new champion. The businessman knew he could get Kane proper therapy and clean up his image so that the brunette could break ways with Bearer. But that meant giving up control of the monster that brought in the fans, causing him to lose more money rather than gain. So no it was more beneficial right now to have the red demon under Bearer's thumb.

"Now Paul, you have to understand that in order for your son's prospects to increase, he himself has to invest." The former mortician, though not intelligent in the classical sense wasn't without his own brand of shrewdness. "He has invested Mr. McMahon, in endorsing merchandise that your company manufactures. In countless promotions and live events, are you now saying that my boy hasn't done all that?" The business tycoon fought the urge to grit his teeth. To lose control was to concede ground, and he knew that if anyone in this room saw any sign of weakness then that could be used against him by rivals within, and out of the business he built with his own two hands.

"Kane is WWF champion Mr. Bearer; this is part of the process as you should well know." It was a direct jab to his abandonment of the Undertaker whom went on to become the WWF without him. And everyone knew it. Bearer was all but silently frothing at the mouth at this point. He knew all too well what had happened once his Undertaker had gained control, and what would happen if his ward were to do the same. But he was determined not to let that happen again, or at least secure his own place before abandoning the emotionally abused giant.

"Of course Mr. McMahon I didn't mean to be rude, but ma son's well being is my only concern." Vince sucked hard on his tooth to stop the automatic disgusted response at the fat man's oily tone. The man had absolutely no good breeding and even less sense to know he was the scum of the earth not fit to breathe the same air as the millionaire his offspring was currently employed by. "Of course, now let's talk interviews; I already have a line of television show reporters lined up."


End file.
